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AMENITIES  OP  HOME 


'l! 


"  Of  all  the  places  in  the  world,  home  is  the 
place  in  which  we  should  cultivate  manners." 


>,».  »»,  », 


NEW    YORK: 
D.    APPLETON    AND    COMPANY, 

1,  3,  AND  5  BOND  STREET. 

1881. 


COPTEIGHT  BY 

D.    APPLETON    AND    COMPANY. 

1881. 


«  »     t 


CONTENTS. 


I.— Difficulties  in  the  Way 
II. — The  Mothek  begins 
III. — A  Subtile  Sympathy  . 
IV. — Education  and  Manners  of  Girls 
V. — Respect  for  the  Rights  of  Others. 
VI. — The  Model  Girl     . 
VII. — The  Manners  of  Young  Men 
VIII. — Consideration  for  Each  Other  . 
IX. — The  Tyrant  of  Home. 
X. — The  First  Engagement     . 
XI. — A  Profession  for  our  Sons  . 
XII. ^ — Professions  for  Women   . 
XIII. — The  Influence  of  Aged  People 
XIV. — The  Capabilities  of  Home  Education 
XV. — The  Unhappy  Home    . 
XVI. — The  Musical  Member 
XVII. — The  Cheerful  Member 
XVIIL— The  Good  Father 
XIX. — The  Good  Wife 
XX. — Making  Home  Attractive 


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AMENITIES   OF  HOME. 


DIFFICULTIES  IN  THE  WAY. 

The  first  thing  which  should  be  taught  a  child  is  obe- 
dience, and  after  that  should  come  reverence. 

It  is  very  hard  to  teach  an  American  child  reverence. 
His  parents  must  be  people  of  remarkable  force  of  charac- 
ter if  they  succeed  in  doing  so,  for  the  whole  tendency  of 
our  free  institutions  is  against  him.  The  Declaration  of 
Independence  arrays  itself  with  its  *^  glittering  generali- 
ties "  against  this  first  effort  of  home  training. 

The  newly  arrived  foreigner,  in  his  might,  majestic 
through  numbers,  defeats  the  idea ;  for  he  soon  learns,  as 
the  beginning  of  his  political  career,  that  his  vote  is  as 
good  as  his  master's — perhaps  better.  Thus  the  good  old 
relation  between  master  and  servant,  of  respect  on  the  one 
hand  and  help  on  the  other — the  best  relation  for  the  bene- 
fit of  home — is  uprooted  at  once. 

Almost  the  first  impression  on  a  young  child's  mind  is  of 
the  insolence  of  his  nurse  to  his  mother.  He  sees  that  her 
orders  are  not  obeyed,  that  she  is  powerless  to  enforce  them. 
He  hears  the  nurse  speak  to  her  in  loud,  arrogant,  defiant 
tones.     He  often  sees  his  mother,  before  a  powerful  and 


6  /;,  \  \.\4MpN¥flEkpf,fi^ 

strong  elderly  nurse,  paralyzed  with  fear  ;  for,  if  she  deems 
that  her  child's  comfort  and  welfare  are  at  stake,  if  she  be- 
lieves that  the  nurse  knows  more  than  she  does,  she  will 
endure  insolence  to  herself  and  a  sort  of  assumption  on  the 
part  of  the  nurse  of  an  authority  which  should  never  be 
delegated. 

Every  mother,  if  she  has  reached  maturity,  will  re- 
member this  slavery  of  hers  when  she  was  young,  and  will 
regret  it.  The  matter  seemed  a  trifling  one  at  first.  It  be- 
gan in  a  fear  of  her  own  inexperience  and  in  a  belief  in 
the  nurse's  knowledge.  It  went  on  in  contests  over  the 
baby's  food,  his  sash,  his  Sunday  coat,  the  mother  always 
being  worsted  in  the  fight. 

She  now  regrets  that  weakness ;  but  with  others  will 
not  that  weakness  plead  for  her,  a«,  broken  with  ill-health, 
confused  by  new  duties,  she  tries  to  balance  between  the 
imperfections  of  American  servitude  and  no  servitude  at 
all  ?  She  begins  then  what  is  to  be  the  work  of  her  life, 
not  the  decision  between  right  and  wrong,  but  the  more 
difficult  decision  between  two  duties. 

If  the  nurse  is  neat  and  faithful  to  the  child's  best  in- 
terest, she  will  put  up  with  her,  even  if  her  temper  is  bad 
and  her  manners  horrible ;  if  she  changes  the  nurse,  who 
knows  but  she  may  hire  a  drunkard,  a  thief,  or  a  creature 
careless  as  to  neatness  and  health  ?  Thus  the  mother  rea- 
sons, and  the  nursery  becomes  the  school  of  insubordina- 
tion. No  child  likes  to  obey.  He  may  love  his  mother — 
of  course  he  does — better  than  anything,  but  when  a  con- 
flict of  opinion  comes,  he  prefers  his  own  will.  A  strong 
and  conscientious  mother  will  compel  her  child  to  obey  ;  a 
weak  and  conscientious  mother  will  not  be  able  to  do  so. 
He  sees  that  Sarah  does  not  obey,  why  should  he  ?  The 
American  child  goes  to  school.  There  he  is  taught  rou- 
tine, but  not  reverence.  He  is  not  especially  reverential  to 
his  teachers ;  nor  is  he  taught  that  obedience  to  superior 


DIFFICULTIES  m  THE  WAY.  7 

rank  or  station  which  is  a  part  of  tlie  education  of  a  for- 
eigner. . 

Therefore  he  has  no  inherited  nor  early  inculcated  rever- 
ence. He  has  good  instincts,  he  has  learned  to  tell  the 
truth,  he  is  energetic  and  industrious,  perhaps  ;  but  a 
French  boy  would  be  shocked  at  the  manners  of  the  young 
American  son  to  his  mother,  even  had  the  boy  all  the  other 
virtues  which  he  respects.  Nothing  in  this  imperfect 
world  is  so  beautiful  as  the  relation  of  a  French  son  to  his 
mother,  lie  sees  her  from  his  first  sentient  look  the 
being  whom  every  one  in  the  house  adores.  Does  the  nurse 
or  the  maid  speak  even  sharply  to  the  mistress  of  the  house, 
she  is  immediately  discharged.  The  child  would  thus  see 
his  mothers  authority  verified  from  the  first,  and,  whatever 
we  may  say  on  this  side  of  the  water  of  the  marriage  rela- 
tion in  France,  the  master  of  the  house  certainly  compels  a 
sort  of  respect  from  his  servants  and  children  toward  the 
mother  and  mistress  of  the  house  which  goes  far  toward 
making  the  manners  of  a  nation  respectful  and  polite. 

From  the  cradle  to  the  grave  a  French  son  has  one 
duty,  one  affection,  Avhich  is  paramount  to  all  others — that 
is,  his  love  for  his  mother.  As  a  child,  as  a  boy,  he  treats 
her  with  perfect  respect  and  obedience.  As  a  young  man, 
he  delights  to  send  her  flowers,  to  take  her  to  the  theatres 
and  cafes.  It  is  a  common  sight  in  Paris  to  see  a  young 
man  With  a  gray-haired  woman  at  the  public  galleries  and 
places  of  amusement,  apparently  perfectly  happy  with  each 
other,  the  young  man  studying  to  make  his  mother  com- 
fortable and  amused.  Often,  in  leaving  France,  a  young 
man  asks  of  his  family  the  privilege  of  taking  his  mother 
with  him  as  his  ^'^ guide,  philosopher,  and  friend."  Before 
his  marriage  is  arranged,  she  is  his  constant  companion  and 
his  best  adviser.  Never  until  death  separates  them  does  he 
fail  in  his  duty  toward  her  ;  and,  after  that  event  has  closed  . 
tliis  sweet,  dutiful  history,  he   keeps  the   anniversary  of 


8  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

her  death  as  his  most  sacred  day,  and  visits  her  grave  with 
his  children  to  dress  it  with  flowers. 

An  American  young  man  of  even  the  kindest  heart  and 
manners  seldom  treats  his  mother  with  much  outward  at- 
tention. He  may,  if  necessary,  work  for  her ;  he  would  be 
shocked  if  he  heard  that  he  had  been  guilty  of  any  neglect 
of  even  the  most  remote  duty  to  her.  But  he  gives  her  no 
small  attentions,  such  as  sending  her  flowers,  helping  her 
to  her  carriage,  greeting  her  in  the  morning,  taking  her  to 
the  theatre  or  for  a  drive.  Nothing  is  so  rare  as  to  see  a 
young  American  gentleman  in  attendance  upon  his  mother. 
Even  his  manner  of  speaking  to  her  is  harsh  and  impolite. 
He  goes  to  her  for  money,  if  his  father  does  not  give  it  to 
him,  but  he  is  very  indifferent  as  to  his  manner  of  asking 
for  it ;  he  is  full  of  reproaches  if  she  does  not  give  it  to 
him. 

We  are  telling  plain  truths — but  they  are  truths.  If  the 
two  differ  in  opinion  as  to  the  time  to  leave  a  party,  it  is 
he  who  reproaches  her.  The  boy  is  not  so  much  to  be 
blamed  as  one  would  think,  when  we  remember  that  he  has 
heard  often  her  pwn  servants  and  the  tradespeople  with 
whom  she  deals  speak  to  his  mother  impertinently.  He 
has  never  been  taught  reverence  ;  it  is  not  in  the  air.  He 
has  seen  men  polite  to  his  mother,  particularly  if  she  is 
young  and  pretty ;  but  he  has  seen  no  reverence  such  as 
should  always  accompany  her  high  position.  His  training 
at  his  school  has  not  been  that  of  an  English  school,  where 
he  is  taught  to  fag  for  the  older  boys,  be  whipped  by  the 
stronger  boys,  and  to  regard  the  principal  as  a  sort  of  demi- 
god. The  whole  training  of  a  young  American  tends  to 
drive  out  from  his  nature  every  such  feeling  as  obedience. 
He  is  his  own  master,  and  he  owes  respect  to  no  man. 

To  counteract  this,  and  to  be,  from  the  first  to  the 
last,  the  one  element  of  correction  in  this  tide  which  for 
ever  runs  counter  to  her  best  efforts,  is  the  mother's  duty  ; 


DIFFICULTIES  IN  TILE  WAY.  9 

she  must  be  Church  and  State,  throne,  and  hereditary 
nobihty,  to  the  boy.  She  must  teach  him  to  look  up  ;  to 
obey,  to  conquer  himself,  to  be  a  well-mannered  and  a  self- 
respecting  person,  instead  of  being  an  ungovernable  cub. 
Obedience  to  the  law,  all  Americans  have  the  intelligence 
to  render.  They  know  that  therein  lies  their  safety.  "I 
am  the  State,"  is  each  man's  fieldmark  and  device.  But 
to  be  a  man  of  manners,  always  respecting  age,  woman- 
hood, the  proper  precedence  of  certain  dignitaries,  one's 
j)arents  and  one's  clergy — this  has  to  be  taught. 

American  men  respect  woman  in  the  highest  sense,  and 
treat  them  with  all  the  chivalry  possible,  as  far  as  immu- 
nity from  insult  is  concerned.  The  national  character  of  the 
American  man  in  this  respect  is  above  reproach.  But  are 
they  at  home  amiable  and  polite  ?  Do  they  treat  their 
wives  and  daughters  or  their  mothers  with  constant  and 
daily  and  proper  politeness  ?  Are  American  women  models 
in  this  respect  ?  Do  they  remember  to  be  grateful,  polite, 
in  little  matters  of  salutations  and  of  compliment  ?  Are 
they  careful  to  consume  their  own  smoke,  and  to  bring  only 
an  amiable  face  to  the  dinner-table  ? 

We  are  afraid  not.  The  national  manners  need  improv- 
ing. The  amenities  of  home  can  alone  make  up  for  the 
national  disadvantage.  It  is  at  the  home  dinner-table,  by 
the  hearth-stone,  the  evening  fireside,  in  the  nursery,  the 
bedroom  and  the  sick-room,  that  manners  must  be  taught. 

We  can  not  count  upon  outside  influences  for  our  chil- 
dren. Home  first,  and  home  always,  must  be  to  them  what 
the  external  world  is  to  the  ignorant  foreigner.  There 
every  institution  teaches  him,  by  the  iron  bands  of  power 
and  custom,  to  be  respectful.  If  he  dares  be  otherwise,  he 
is  an  outlaw  and  a  criminal. 

The  husband  and  wife  should  begin  it,  by  treating  each 
other  with  a  courtesy  which,  in  the  presence  of  servants, 
should  be  almost  formal.    An  English  butler  left  an  Ameri- 


10  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

can  family  because  the  gentleman  said  to  him,  '^  Tell  my 
wife  to  come  here,"  instead  of  saying,  as  he  should,  *^  Ask 
your  mistress  if  she  will- have  the  kindness  to  step  here," 
or,  as  the  butler  added,  **He  might  have  said,  'Ask  Mrs. 
So-and-so  to  have  the  kindness  to  step  here. '  " 

AYe  little  think  how  much  these  things  influence  ser- 
vants. They  are  silent  and  not  too  kindly  observers  of  our 
lightest  action,  and  are  never  to  be  treated  familiarly  if  we 
desire  their  respect  and  obedience.  Kindness  is  one  thing, 
but  familiarity  is  a  very  different  and  quite  another  thing. 

Between  parents  and  children  there  should  never,  even 
with  the  fondest  love,  be  the  slightest  relaxation  in  the 
matter  of  a  respectful  obedience. .  It  is  not  now,  as  it  was 
in  the  days  of  our  own  fathers  and  mothers,  the  fashion  to 
be  formally  respectful.  The  son  does  not  rise  when  his 
father  enters  the  room,  or  stop  speaking  because  his  father 
is  speaking.  Perhaps  it  would  be  better  if  he  did.  But  he 
can  be  taught  that  he  should  treat  his  father  differently 
from  other  men.  He  can  be  taught  to  rise  when  his 
mother  leaves  the  table.  He  can  be  taught,  by  looks  rather 
than  by  words,  to  assume  a  certain  respectful  tone.  Un- 
doubtedly, the  harassed  and  troubled  American  woman — old 
before  her  time  ;  obliged  to  rush  against  wind  and  tide, 
full  of  cares  which  pursue  her  like  scorpions,  embarrassed 
by  ill-trained,  impertinent,  and  incapable  servants — would 
have  a  wrinkle  less  on  her  forehead,  if  she  could  be  treated 
with  a  little  more  respect  by  her  sons  and  daughters  ;  and 
certainly  she  would  be  no  less  happy  if  her  grown-up  son 
would  now  and  then  take  her  to  the  theatre  or  to  a  picture- 
gallery,  and  would  not  impress  it  on  her  mind  that  she  is 
an  old  woman,  and  therefore  to  be  left  to  the  solitude  of 
her  own  thoughts. 

How  does  her  mind  go  back  to  those  days  when  she 
with  sleepless  solicitude  watched  his  helplessness  !  How 
does  she  think  of  her  patient  work  by  his  bedside  when  he 


DIFFICULTIES  IN  THE  WAY.  \\ 

was  ailing !  Does  he  ever  wish  to  sit  down  and  nurse  her 
when  she  is  ill  ?  lie  may  say  that  the  affections  never  go 
backward  ;  but,  at  least,  he  might  remember  what  she  has 
done  for  him — how  she  brought  home  the  Christmas-tree, 
which  she  decked  for  him  ;  not  forgetting  his  daily  amuse- 
ments, how  she  sought  to  make  his  life  an  endless  succes- 
sion of  delights  ;  how  she  wrought,  in  sickness  and  in 
health,  at  his  *^  little  coat,"  that  he  might  be  fine  ;  and  how 
proud  she  was  of  him,  when,  after  her  teaching,  he  took 
the  prize  at  school. 

Now,  wrapped  in  his  own  pleasures,  or  business,  or  love, 
how  often  does  he  think  of  her  or  her  pleasure  ?  Does  he 
try  to  make  her  happy  in  her  own  way — the  only  way  in 
which  we  can  any  of  us  be  happy  ?  No,  the  American  son 
does  not  treat  his  mother  with  much  politeness,  as  a  gen- 
eral rule  ;  nor  do  her  daughters  always  err  on  the  side  of 
too  much  delicate  devotion,  or  err  with  a  too  respectful 
manner. 

We  have  no  power  to  write  a  counter-irritant  to  "  Daisy 
Miller,"  whose  mother  was  the  last  person  to  be  informed 
of  the  engagement  of  her  daughter.  There  are  many 
mothers  who  constitute  themselves  the  upper  servants  of 
their  daughters,  and  who  consider  the  daughter  as  the  best 
judge  of  her  own  actions.  Such  a  mother  must,  of  course, 
take  the  consequenees  of  her  own  folly,  and  bear  with  what- 
ever sort  of  treatment  her  daughter  chooses  to  give  her. 
We  can  not  make  them  over,  such  unwise  mothers. 

But  for  the  future  there  is  always  hope.  We  can  begin 
with  a  young  home,  a  young  mother  ;  and  from  experience, 
and  from  the  memory  of  mistakes,  we  can  try  to  teach  a 
better  code,  feeling  sure  that,  when  mothers  appreciate 
how  far-reaching  are  the  amenities  of  home,  they  will  try 
to  make  the  nursery  the  infant  scJ[iool,  as  the  parlor  and 
dining-room  should  be  the  college  and  university,  of  a  new 
and  an  improved  system  of  national  manners. 


II. 
THE  MOTHER  BEGINS. 

The  mother  should  therefore  try,  above  every  other 
thmg,  for  respectful  servants.  She  should  demand  that 
quality,  even  before  efficiency,  as  the  one  great  desideratum. 
She  must  not  allow  herself  to  be  treated  with  disrespect. 
The  little  creature  sitting  on  her  lap  is  to  be  influenced  for 
life  by  that  hour  in  the  nursery  when  he  sees  her  author- 
ity outraged.  For,  before  the  lips  speak,  the  little  brain  is 
working,  the  bright  eyes  are  taking  in  the  situation,  and 
the  baby  is  sitting  in  judgment  on  his  mother.  She  must 
be  worthy  of  that  judgment. 

Above  all  things,  let  him  never  see  her  lose  her  temper. 
The  nurse  will  then  have  an  advantage  which  will  strike 
the  impartial  judge.  A  woman  at  the  head  of  the  house 
should  be  as  calm  and  as  imperturbable  and  as  immovable  as 
Mont  Blanc,  to  be  the  model  mistress.  Of  course,  this  is 
often  difficult,  but  it  is  not  impossible.  Again,  when  she  has 
given  an  order,  she  must  see  that  it  is  obeyed,  even  if  it 
costs  her  a  great  deal  of  trouble.  It  is  worth  the  trouble  to 
be  disagreeably  pertinacious  on  this  point  and  inflexible, 
even  to  the  degree  of  being  tiresome,  as  it  establishes  a  prec- 
edent, A  lady  who  was  a  pattern  housekeeper  made  a 
rule  that  her  waitress  should  bring  her  a  glass  of  water  at 
six  o'clock  every  morning,  and  no  woman  who  disregarded 
that  rule  was  allowed  to  stay  in  her  house.  Every  one 
thought  this  very  unnecessary  ;  but  they  admired  the  punct- 


THE  MOTHER  BEGINS.  13 

iiality  with  which  the  eight-o'clock  breakfast  was  served. 
**Do  you  not  know/'  said  the  wise  housekeeper,  *'that  my 
inflexible  rule  brings  about  the  certainty  of  her  early  ris- 
ing?" And  as  nothing  conduces  so  thoroughly  to  the 
health  and  welfare  of  children  as  regularity,  this  was  an 
admirable  beginning  for  the  young  mother. 

It  is  almost  impossible,  with  some  families,  to  have 
young  children  at  the  table  with  their  parents  ;  they  are 
left  almost  necessarily  to  the  care  of  nurses  at  meal-time. 
The  result  is,  of  course,  that  they  get  bad  manners  at  the 
table.  A  mother  should  try  to  eat  at  least  one  meal  a  day 
with  her  child,  so  as  to  begin  at  the  beginning  with  his 
table  manners. 

And  those  important  things,  accent  and  pronunciation  ! 
What  sins  do  not  Americans  commit  in  their  slovenly  mis- 
use of  their  own  tongue  ?  Educated  men,  scientific  men, 
often  so  mispronounce  their  words,  or  speak  with  so  pal- 
pable a  Yankee  twang,  that  they  are  unfitted  to  become 
public  speakers.  It  would  be  a  good  thing  for  every  Ameri- 
can household,  could  they  employ  one  English  girl,  with 
the  good  pronunciation  which  is  the  common  inheritance 
of  all  the  well-trained  servants  in  those  parts  of  rural  Eng- 
land where  the  ladies  take  an  interest  in  the  peasantry.  A 
mother  should  be  very  careful  to  talk  much  to  her  children  ; 
to  watch  their  earliest  accent  as  they  begin  to  go  to  school ; 
and  to  try  and  impress  a  good  pronunciation  upon  them 
in  their  first  lisping  talk. 

It  is  very  much  the  fashion  now  even  for  people  of 
wealth  to  have  a  polyglot  family  of  servants — a  German 
nurse  and  a  French  governess,  an  English  rnaid  and  a  Span- 
ish waiter — thinking  that  their  children  will  pick  up  a  dozen 
languages  with  their  playthings.  But,  although  they  do 
learn  a  smattering,  children  rarely  learn  a  language  well  in 
this  way  ;  and  it  is  quite  certain  that  they  will  never  know 
their  own  language  as  correctly  as  if  they  learned  that  first, 
2 


14  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

and  perfectly.  To  learn  to  spell  in  English  correctly,  Eng- 
lish must  be  taught  before  the  other  languages  come  in  to 
confuse  the  mind. 

A  French  servant  in  the  house,  when  the  children  get 
to  be  seyen  or  eight,  if  one  can  find  an  honest  one,  is  a  most 
excellent  addition.  Children  should  begin  French  very 
early,  as  it  is  now  so  all-important  to  speak  it  well,  and 
the  constant  use  of  the  common  phrases  in  childhood  saves 
the  French  pupil  much  time  and  annoyance  in  after-days. 

The  trouble  with  us  in  America  is  the  getting  of  good 
and  conscientious  Frenchwomen.  French  servants  are  so 
prone  to  lie,  deeming  it  far  less  a  sin  than  ite  of  the  An- 
glo-Saxon race,  that  a  young  mother  generally  gives  up  in 
despair.  It  is  on  record  that  a  child  of  seven  went  to  his 
mother,  and  complained  of  his  French  nurse  thus  :  '^Mam- 
ma, I  can  not  understand  Melanie,  except  I  kno  ^  that  she 
doesn't  tell  the  truth."  To  teach  children  to  reverence  the 
truth  is  of  far  more  importance  than  to  give  them  a  good 
French  accent ;  so  that  the  French  nurse  is  sent  away  in 
nine  cases  out  of  ten. 

However,  perseverance  is  rewarded  in  this  case  as  in  every 
other.  If  a  mother  works  away  at  it,  she  may  get  good 
French  servants  who  will  tell  the  truth.  French  Protes- 
tants are  more  apt  to  tell  the  truth  than  French  Catholics ; 
but  it  is  now  almost  decided  that  truth  is  a  matter  of  race. 
'^The  Saxon  man,"  says  Emerson,  '^with  open  front  and 
honest  meaning,  domestic,  affectionate,  is  not  the  wood  out 
of  which  cannibal,  or  inquisitor,  or  assassin  is  made  ;  but  he 
is  molded  for  law,  lawful  trade,  civility,  marriage,  the  nur- 
ture of  children,  for  the  truth,  for  colleges,  churches,  chari- 
ties, and  colonies." 

A  mother  should  try  to  be  at  home  when  her  children 
return  from  school.  She  must  of  course  be  out  sometimes  ; 
but  that  hour  she  should  try  to  ba  in,  to  receive  the  little 
fatigued,  miserable  child,  who  has  endured  the  slavery  of 


THE  MOTHER  BEGINS.  15 

desks  and  books,  classes,  bad  air,  and  enforced  tasks  which 
wo  cull  ^*  school." 

If  we  called  it  racks,  thumb-screws,  the  boot,  the  pulley, 
and  the  torture,  as  they  did  similar  institutions  in  the  Middle 
Ages,  we  should  be  more  true  to  the  facts.  The  modern 
teacher  extorts  confessions  of  how  much  is  eight  times  eight, 
or  what  are  the  boundaries  of  Pennsylvania,  or  the  declen- 
sion of  a  Latin  noun,  in  the  midst  of  heat,  bad  air,  and 
general  oppression  and  suffering  such  as  few  chambers  of 
torture  ever  equaled.  The  boy  comes  home  with  burning 
brow,  perhaps  with  a  headache  ;  tired,  angry,  and  depressed, 
to  know  that  all  is  to  be  repeated  on  the  morrow.  If  his 
mother  is  at  home,  he  rushes  to  her  room.  Let  her  have 
patience  and  sympathy,  for  it  is  his  crucial  hour.  Let  her 
bathe  his  head  and  hands  ;  give  him  a  good  lunch,  at  which 
she  presides  herself ;  hear  all  his  grievances,  and  smooth 
them  over  ;  and  then  send  him  out  to  play  for  an  hour  or 
two  in  the  open  air.  When  he  must  study  in  the  evening, 
both  father  and  mother  should  tackle  the  hard  Latin  and 
Greek,  the  arithmetic  and  the  geography,  with  the  boy,  and 
if  possible  smooth  the  thorny  road  which  leads  else  to  de- 
spair. 

The  animals  know  how  to  take  care  of  their  young  better 
than  we  do.  The  human  race  has  no  inspiration  on  the 
subject.  A  young  fox  is  educated  for  his  sphere  in  life 
much  more  easily  than  is  a  human  boy.  We  have  not  con- 
quered the  secrets  of  doing  the  best  for  our  children,  or  else 
we  certainly  should  have  learned  how  to  make  education 
more  agreeable.  Perhaps  the  Kindergarten  is  the  first  move 
in  the  right  direction,  for  we  find  children  very  happy  ther3. 
Certainly  a  boys'  school  or  a  girls'  school,  with  bad  air  and 
enforced  tasks,  is  not  a  happy  place.  Dickens  had  a  realizing 
sense  of  the  miseries  of  school,  and  has  painted  for  us  the 
tragedy  of  Paul  Dombey  in  colors  which  will  never  fade  : 

*^^The  ancient  Romans,  sir,'"  began  Dr.  Blimber  to 


16  AMENITIES  OF  EOME. 

Mr.  Feeder.  *^At  the  mention  of  these  terrible  people — 
their  natural  enemies — every  boy  grew  pale,"  says  that  im- 
mortal author  in  ^^Dombey  and  Son." 

The  Kindergarten  offers  to  mothers  that  great  desidera- 
tum, an  amusing  school,  and  it  may  not  be  out  of  place  here 
to  refer  to  the  laws  which  govern  the  ''  United  Home  at 
Guise,"  that  latest  French  effort  at  living  in  *^  community," 
confining  ourselves  to  the  part  which  concerns  children 
alone. 

"  At  eight  o'clock  there  is  a  sound  of  pleasure  and  hilarity  in  the 
central  court,  and  soon  a  lively  chorus  of  voices  is  heard,  and  the 
children  are  seen  marching  in  double  column  from  the  central  court 
across  the  open  square  to  the  schoolrooms  opposite.  They  sing  in 
perfect  harmony,  with  a  freshness  of  tone  and  an  evenness  of  utter- 
ance that  denote  a  happy  spirit  and  thorough  training.  They  march 
in  exact  step,  the  several  teachers  walking  between  the  lines,  and  a 
pupil  as  standard-bearer  leading  the  scholars  of  each  department. 
There  are  several  banners  in  the  procession,  and  many  of  the  chil- 
dren are  decorated  with  a  ribbon  or  badge,  indicative  of  meritorious 
conduct  or  acquisition  in  the  schools. 

"The  younger  children  of  the  institution  do  not  enter  the  school 
at  this  early  hour.  Some  of  the  harnMns — children  from  four  to  six 
— ^may  be  seen  at  this  time  in  the  open  square  or  in  the  courts.  But 
they  are  nearly  always  in  groups.  Very  seldom  is  one  seen  walking 
or  playing  alone.  They  seem  to  gravitate  to  one  another  as  invol- 
untarily as  the  atoms  in  a  crystal ;  and,  one  might  almost  say,  to 
group  themselves  in  as  definite  an  order.  They  tend  always  to  even 
step  and  a  line  of  march,  often  with  their  hands  upon  one  another's 
shoulders,  the  child  in  front  bearing  the  scepter  of  leadership,  in  the 
shape  of  an  uplifted  stick,  and  all  joining  in  some  melody  learned  in 
the  schoolroom. 

"  The  sentiment  of  fraternity,  or  the  principle  of  mutual  protec- 
tion, is  especially  observable  among  the  children  of  the  institution, 
in  whom,  by  the  conditions  of  the  home-life  and  the  system  of  edu- 
cation, it  becomes  as  a  second  nature.  With  them  it  forms  the  mo- 
tive of  action,  not  as  duty,  but  as  pleasure.  This  was  manifested  to 
me  in  an  amusing  manner  one  morning,  as  I  sat  at  the  window  of 


TEE  MOTHER  BEGINS.  17 

my  pleasant  room,  watching  a  group  of  five  or  six  cliildren  of  the 
hambinot  in  the  open  square  below.  There  was  a  little  rain  falling. 
According  to  their  usual  custom,  the  children  had  no  caps  upon  their 
heads,  the  proximity  of  the  schoolrooms  rendering  that  article  of  ap- 
parel for  the  most  part  superfluous.  But,  as  they  wished  at  this  time 
to  cross  the  square,  and  it  would  necessitate  exposure  to  the  slight 
showers,  it  occurred  to  the  leader  of  the  troop  to  put  the  tail  of  his 
waistcoat  over  the  head  of  his  immediate  follower,  and  this  last  re- 
solved at  once  to  afford  the  like  protection  to  his  neighbor  in  the 
rear,  and  so  the  mutual  helpfulness  went  on  until  all  were  sheltered 
except  the  leader,  who  was  only  too  eager  and  happy  to  evince  by 
his  voluntary  exposure  the  qualities  of  an  able  general. 

"  During  my  entire  visit  at  the  Familistere,  in  all  my  walks  and 
observation,  I  heard  no  quarreling  among  the  children,  no  harsh 
words  in  hours  of  recreation,  saw  no  exhibition  of  ill-feeling  one 
toward  another.  Of  course  it  is  not  natural  to  suppose  that  these 
frailties  of  human  nature  find  no  expression  there;  but  that  it  occurs 
far  more  rarely  than  in  ordinary  society  is  evident,  or  it  would  have 
come  to  my  observation  during  a  period  of  five  weeks. 

*'  I  did  not  either  find  any  evidence  of  the  infliction  of  corporal 
punishment,  even  in  the  slightest  degree,  in  the  nursery,  the  other 
educational  departments,  or  in  the  Home.  On  the  contrary,  I  ob- 
served a  mingled  firmness  and  forbearance  on  the  part  of  the  guar- 
dians and  teachers,  and  always  a  tender  manifestation  of  the  parents' 
affection  for  the  child,  which  is  a  charm  in  the  French  character. 

"  There  are  two  hundred  and  seventy-nine  children  in  the  insti- 
tution. They  have  an  air  of  freedom  and  happiness,  despite  their 
almost  constant  tutelage,  and  therefore  much  spontaneity.  Tiiis  is 
because  the  methods  of  education  are  such  as  to  guide  and  balance 
the  tendencies  of  human  nature  rather  than  subvert  them.  The 
spontaneity  to  which  I  refer  does  not  impair  the  general  good  man- 
ners of  the  children.  The  boys  who  raise  a  shout  of  freedom  when 
they  disband  in  the  central  court  do  not,  in  their  most  hilarious 
gallop,  go  tilting  against  their  superiors,  and  the  little  girls  are  ex- 
quisite with  their  never-forgotten  '  Bon  jour,  Madame,'  if  you  smile 
a  salute  to  them. 

"  At  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  the  children  who  entered  the 
schoolroom  at  eight  o'clock  march  back  in  the  same  order  with  their 
teachers  to  the  Familistere,  and  the  workmen  return  from  the  work- 


18  AMENITIES  OF  HOME, 

sliops.  It  is  the  liour  of  breakfast  for  the  population.  At  ten 
o'clock  labor  and  study  are  resumed,  the  babies  are  carried  to  the 
nursery,  and  the  children  from  two  to  four  years  of  age  enter  the 
school.  At  one  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  all  the  pupils,  again  march- 
ing to  the  music  of  their  own  voices,  return  for  the  second  breakfast. 
The  workmen  arrive  perliaps  a  little  later,  and  neither  study  nor 
•employment  is  resumed  until  tliree  o'clock.  There  is  time  for  that 
complete  relaxation  whicli  insures  good  digestion. 

"  In  this  interval,  if  we  follow  the  road  that  leads  north  of  the 
garden  and  the  palace,  we  come  upon  many  of  the  men  who  work 
in  the  foundries,  and  who  do  not  inhabit  the  Familistere.  They  are 
scattered  or  grouped  in  the  shade  of  the  beautiful  trees  which  border 
the  roadside.  Some  are  busy  with  the  ample  meal  which  the  sun- 
browned  wife  or  daughter  has  brought  them  from  the  distant  cot- 
tage. Others,  with  repnst  finished,  and  with  heads  pillowed  upon 
their  arm?,  are  stretched  in  deep  repose  on  the  cool  green  grnss." 

We  have  made  this  long  excerpt  from  the  account  of 
Monsieur  Godin's  "  United  Home  "  at  Guise,  because  it  is, 
in  the  first  place,  very  interesting,  and,  in  the  second  place, 
because  it  bears  upon  two  very  important  questions :  the 
first  one,  corporal  punishment ;  the  second,  the  influence 
of  music. 

Now,  in  the  education  of  children  with  a  view  toward 
the  amenities,  does  it  seem  probable  that  a  child  who  is 
struck  and  whipped  will  become  as  gentle  and  amiable  as 
one  who  is  always  treated  with  a  firm  and  consistent  and 
equable  kindness  ?  The  **  sparing  the  rod  and  spoiling  the 
child  "  question  is  one  which  has  not  been  answered. 

The  violent-tempered  and  easily  irritated  child  is  often 
apparently  much  relieved  by  what  is  called,  in  familiar  par- 
lance, a  *^good  whipping."  It  seems  to  carry  oft*  a  certain 
'^malaise,"  which  he  is  glad  to  get  rid  of.  Whether  a  ride 
on  donkey-back,  a  row  on  the  river,  or  a  hearty  run  would 
not  do  it  as  well,  there  is  no  possible  means  of  deciding. 
But  to  cuff  a  child's  ears,  to  shake  him,  to  whip  him  often, 
is  to  arouse  all  that  is  worse  in  his  nature.     The  human 


THE  MOTHER  BEGINS.  19 

body  is  sacred,  and  a  parent  should  hesitate  to  outrage  that 
natural  dignity  which  is  born  in  every  sensitive  child. 

If  the  amenities  of  home  are  to  begin  early,  we  should 
recommend  a  great  prudence  as  ta  the  administration  of 
corporal  punishment ;  but,  that  it  should  be  entirely  ban- 
ished, no  one  can  say.  There  are  all  sorts  of  children  born 
into  the  world.  No  one  can  decide  as  to  what  sort  of 
treatment  would  have  made  Jesse  Pomeroy  a  better  boy, 
as  he  seems  to  have  been  born  a  fiend.  No  one  can,  on 
the  other  hand,  recommend  the  conduct  of  the  clergyman 
who  whipped  his  child  to  death  because  the  little  fright- 
ened creature  would  not  say  his  prayers.  The  kind  and 
good  mother  will  be  apt  to  find  the  mean  between  the  two. 

The  other  point  of  which  we  are  reminded  by  the  ac- 
count of  the  French  Familistere  is  the  influence  of  music. 

Every  mother  learns  that,  from  the  cradle-song  up  to  the 
dancing  tune  which  she  plays  on  the  piano,  her  greatest 
help  in  the  work  of  education  and  in  her  attempt  at  the 
amenities  is  music.  Nothing  is  so  perfect  as  the  work 
and  aid  of  this  divine  messenger  in  the  otherwise  .insolu- 
ble problem  of  the  nursery.  A  song  often  puts  a  sick 
baby  to  sleep.  It  is  sure,  if  it  is  a  simple  ballad  and  if  it 
tells  a  story,  to  interest  the  boys  and  girls.  What  mother 
who  can  sing  has  not  felt  her  deep  indebtedness  to  the 
'^Heir  of  Linn,"  "Young  Lochinvar,"  "The  Campbells 
are  Coming,"  "  Lizzie  Lindsay,"  "  What's  a'  the  steer, 
Kimmer  ?"  "  Auld  Eobin  Grey,"  and  even  to  the  homely 
"Old  Grimes  is  Dead,"  and  the  familiar  nursery  rhymes  of 
Mother  Goose  set  to  the  simplest  of  tunes  ? 

A  famous  statesman  and  orator  said,  in  one  of  his  best 
speeches,  that  he  could  never  think  of  "'  Kathleen  0  Moore," 
as  his  mother  sang  it,  without  the  tears  coming  to  his  eyes, 
and  he  had  often  wondered  what  power  of  oratory  she  pos- 
sessed that  he  had  not  inherited,  what  nerve  she  contrived 
to  reach  which  none  of  his  polished  periods  could  conquer. 


20  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

He  should  have  remembered  that  the  "hearer's  mood  is  the 
speaker's  opportunity,"  and  he  should  thank  her  that  she 
aroused  in  him  the  early  softer  emotion  which  the  battle 
of  life  has  not  quite  rubbed  out. 

Children  like  to  march.  The  rhythmic  instinct  is  in- 
born ;  they  like  to  dance,  to  move  in  phalanxes .  The 
French  have  caught  this  element  of  concord  and  have  uti- 
lized it.  It  is  introduced  here  into  our  public  schools,  and 
to  any  one  who  has  seen  the  Normal  College,  where  a  regi- 
ment as  large  as  the  Seventh — a  regiment  of  girls — marches 
in  to  music,  the  story  need  not  be  told  of  the  influence  of 
music  upon  order.  At  home,  the  evening  dance  by  the 
firelight,  the  mother  playing  for  her  children,  is  always  a 
picture  of  happiness  and  glee. 

Boys,  as  well  as  girls,  should  be  taught  to  play  upon 
some  musical  instrument.  It  has  the  most  admirable  effect 
upon  the  amenities  of  home.  No  more  soothing  or  more 
refining  influence  can  be  introduced  than  the  home  concert. 
To  vary  the  usual  custom  and  to  give  variety,  let  a  girl 
learn  the  violin  and  a  boy  the  piano.  It  is  very  interesting 
to  see  the  usual  position  occasionally  reversed,  and  there  is 
nothing  ungraceful  or  unfeminine  in  the  use  of  the  violin. 
Very  few  natures  are  so  coarse  or  so  fierce  that  they  can  not 
be  reached  by  music. 

"I  had,"  said  a  woman  who  Avas  famed  for  her  lovely 
manners,  'Hhe  good  fortune  to  have  a  musical  papa.  He 
used  to  wake  me  in  the  morning  by  playing  Mozart's 
*  Batti,  Batti,'  on  the  flute,  and  he  always,  although  a  busy 
lawyer,  gave  us  an  hour  in  the  evening  with  his  violin.  I 
am  sure  Strauss,  with  his  famous  Vienna  Orchestra  and  his 
world-renowned  waltzes,  has  never  put  such  a  thrill  into  my 
nerves  or  such  quicksilver  into  my  heels  as  did  my  father's 
playing  of  the  Virginia  Eeel  and  the  first  movement  of 
Von  Weber's  ^Invitation  a  la  Valse,'  nor  have  I  ever  heard 
such  solemn  notes  as  those  which  came  from  his  violoncello. 


THE  MOTHER  BEGINS.  21 

as  he  accompanied  my  mother  in  the  Funeral  March  in  the 
*  Seventh  Symphony.'  Their  music  made  home  a  more 
attractive  spot  than  any  theatre  or  ball.  They  were  neither 
of  them  great  musicians.  I  dare  say  their  playing  would 
have  been  considered  .very  amateurish  in  th3se  days  of  mu- 
sical excellence.  But  it  served  the  purpose  ol:  making  home 
a  very  peaceful  spot  to  their  boys  and  girls,  and  of  keeping 
it  a  memory  of  delight  through  much  that  was  trying  in 
the  Avay  of  small  income,  personal  self-sacrifice,  and  ill- 
health.  We  had  our  trials,  but  everything  vanished  when 
father  began  to  play." 

We  can  not,  in  our  scheme  of  life,  always  command  a 
musical  papa,  but  this  testimony  is  invaluable.  Children 
should  always  be  taught  to  sing  unless  hopelessly  defective 
in  musical  organization — a  fact  which  can  only  be  ascer- 
tained by  trial.  The  great  use  of  the  Kindergarten  is  per- 
haps in  this  unconscious  development  of  a  voice  and  the 
power  of  keeping  time  and  tune.  Many  a  child,  whose  mu- 
sical gift  would  have  remained  unknown,  suddenly  devel- 
ops a  beautiful  voice  in  the  chorus  of  the  school. 

Here  the  mother  should  be  the  first  teacher,  and  the 
world  is  now  happily  full  of  books  to  help  her.  The 
"Songs  of  Harrow,"  edited  by  the  head-master,  contain 
beautiful  simple  part-songs  for  boys,  and  there  are  hun- 
dreds of  such  compilations  for  girls.  To  the  Countess  of 
Dufferin  we  owe  the  introduction  of  the  singing  quadrilles, 
where,  to  the  Mother  Goose  poems  of  *^  Mary,  Mary,  quite 
contrary,"  and  "  Kide  a  Cock-horse  to  Banbury  Cross,"  have 
been  married  certain  very  good  old  English  tunes,  which 
the  dancers  sing  in  different  parts  as  they  dance,  making  a 
charming  effect.  The  Christmas  Carols,  the  English  Mad- 
rigals, Song  of  the  Waits,  Old  English  glees  and  ballads,  are 
simple,  delightful,  pure,  and  elevating.  The  mother  need 
not  be  afraid  of  these  aids  to  the  home  amenities.  They 
may  not  do  all  that  she  may  wish  to  make  her  children 


22  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

cultivated  musicians,  but  they  will  do  much.  The  oppor- 
tunities for  musical  culture  are  very  great  in  our  cities  now, 
and  we  should  not  forget  that,  in  giving  our  children  a  mu- 
sical education,  we  are  giving  them  a  defense  against  ennui, 
a  new  and  undying  means  of  amusing  tllemselves,  but  also 
a  means  of  making  their  own  future  homes  happy,  that  we 
aid  them  in  an  accomplishment  which  will  be  always  use- 
ful, often  also  remunerative,  and  with  which  they  can  help 
to  swell  the  praises  of  our  Lord  and  to  cheer  the  bedside 
of  the  sick  and  dying. 

It  is  not,  of  course,  universal  that  the  manners  of  musi- 
cians are  perfect,  but  it  has  never  been  urged  against  music, 
that  it  injured  the  manners.  Certainly,  in  a  household, 
music  when  once  learned  can  help  to  increase — the  ameni- 
ties. 


III. 

A  SUBTILE   SYMPATHY. 

Ik  order  to  make  home  happy  to  a  child,  he  should 
never  be  laughed  at.  The  chaotic  view  of  life  which  pre- 
sents itself  to  a  child,  we  can  all  remember  ;  how  we  only 
half  understood  things  or  how  we  misapprehended  them 
altogether ;  how  formalists  wearied  us,  and  gave  us  texts 
which  we  could  not  remember  ;  and  how  the  hasty  and  the 
heartless  trampled  down  the  virgin  buds  of  good  resolve 
and  of  heroic  endeavor.  Our  early  heartbreaks  are  never 
quite  forgotten,  nor  can  we  recall  them  without  tears. 
They  are,  of  course,  a  part  of  the  forging  of  the  armor.  We 
have  to  be  hammered  into  shape  by  all  sorts  of  hard  blows 
before  we  are  good  for  anything.  The  only  thing  we  can 
ask  is  that  the  strokes  be  so  well  given  that  we  are  not  bent 
awry ;  that  the  character  does  not  receive  some  fatal  twist 
from  which  it  never  recovers. 

"  He  comes,  and  lays  my  heart  all  heated 

On  the  hard  anvil,  minded  so 
Into  his  own  fair  shape  to  beat  it 

With  his  great  hammer,  blow  on  blow; 
And  yet  I  whisper,  'As  God  will! ' 
And  at  his  heaviest  blows  lie  still. 

"He  takes  my  softened  heart,  and  beats  it, 

The  sparks  fly  off  at  every  blow  ; 
He  turns  it  o'er  and  o'er  and  heats  it, 

And  lets  it  cool  and  makes  it  glow ; 
And  yet  I  whisper,  'As  God  will! ' 
And  in  his  mighty  hand  lie  still." 


24  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

We  are  all  on  God's  anvil,  to  be  thus  molded,  but,  in  a 
lesser  degree,  our  children  are  in  our  hands  to  be  shaped 
into  the  image  of  their  Maker.  Shall  we,  in  addition  to  all 
the  sorrows  which  must  come  to  them  later,  afflict  them  in 
their  sensitive  childhood  with  our  scorn,  our  ridicule,  or 
our  lack  of  comprehension  ? 

A  Sunday-school  teacher  after  long  effort  thought  that 
she  had  impressed  the  text  '^  A  soft  answer  turneth  away 
wrath  "  upon  a  child's  mind,  to  hear  her  repeat  with  much 
unction  these  words  :  '^Asoft  anchor  turns  to  grass,  but 
green  words  stir  the  ankles."  Again  she  gave  out  some- 
thing about  the  ^*  pomps  and  vanities  of  this  world,"  which 
the  memory  of  her  scholar  brought  back  as  the  "pumps 
and  manacles."  It  was  not  in  human  nature  not  to  smile 
at  this  rendering  of  our  English  Bible,  and  the  child  burst 
into  tears,  and  left  the  school,  never  to  come  back  again. 
Who  can  follow  the  bewildered  mazes  of  that  intellect  as  it 
sought  and  failed  to  catch  the  unfamiliar  words  of  the  text  ? 

One  lady  of  remarkable  intelligence  assures  us  that 
until  she  was  eighteen  she  always,  in  her  nightly  supplica- 
tions, said,  *^  Forgive  us  this  day  our  daily  bread,"  under 
some  childish  hallucination  that  our  daily  bread  was  sup- 
posed to  have  sinned,  or  that  we  were  to  be  forgiven  for 
being  always  hungry.  It  would  not  have  been  a  more  ab- 
surd bit  of  theology  than  many  which  have  held  the  world 
in  chains  for  many  years. 

A  child  will  not,  for  some  inscrutable  reason,  tell  the 
secrets  of  its  soul.  It  will  not  let  us  know  when  we  hurt 
it,  and  hoAV.  We  must  be  careful,  through  sympathy  and 
through  memory,  to  find  that  art. 

One  of  the  most  powerful  sketches  of  a  child's  suffer- 
ings is  to  be  found  in  George  Eliot's  Maggie  Tulliver,  in  the 
"  Mill  on  the  Floss."  Many  a  grown  man  or  woman,  on 
reading  that,  has  said,  "It  is  a  picture  of  my  early  suffer- 
ings.    Poor  Maggie ! " 


A  SUBTILE  SYMPATHY.  25 

A  sullen  temper  gives  to  a  mother  an  almost  incurable 
obstacle  in  the  way  of  good  manners,  and  yet  a  sullen  tem- 
per is  very  often  an  affectionate  temper  soured. 

It  pains  a  mother  often  after  her  children  have  grown 
up  to  hear  them  say  that  their  childhood  was  an  unhappy 
one  ;  that  they  were  never  understood ;  that  she  laughed 
when  she  should  have  been  serious,  and  was  serious  when 
she  should  have  laughed ;  that  they  had  terrors  by  night 
which  she  never  drove  away  ;  and  that  their  mortifications 
by  day  were  increased  by  her  determination  that  they 
should  wear  broad  collars  instead  of  narrow  ones,  such  as 
the  other  boys  wore,  and  so  on.  She  can  only  say,  *^  I  did 
my  best,  I  did  my  best  for  you,''  and  regret  that  she  had 
not  been  inspired. 

But  while  the  children  are  young,  as  indeed  after  they 
are  grown,  a  parent  should  try  to  sympathize  with  the  vari- 
ous irregular  growths  of  a  child's  nature.  Sensitiveness  as 
to  peculiarities  of  dress  is  a  very  strong  element,  and  it  can 
not  be  laughed  down.  The  late  admirable  Lydia  Maria 
Child  said  that  she  believed  her  character  had  been  perma- 
nently injured  by  the  laughter  of  her  schoolmates  at  a 
peculiar  short-waisted  gown  which  her  mother  made  her 
wear  to  school.  And  a  very  sensible  mother,  who  would  not 
allow  her  little  daughter  to  wear  a  hoop  to  dancing-school 
when  hoops  were  the  fashion,  said  that  she  was  certain  that, 
by  the  mortification  she  had  caused  her,  and  the  undue 
attention  which  had  been  given  to  the  subject,  she  had 
made  love  of  dress  a  passion  with  the  child.  On  all  these 
questions,  a  certain  wholesome  inattention  is  perhaps  the 
best  treatment.  Try  to  allow  your  child  to  be  as  much 
like  his  fellows  as  you  can  ;  and,  above  all  things,  do  not 
make  him  too  splendid,  for  that  hurts  his  feelings  more 
than  anything,  and  makes  the  other  boys  laugh  at  him. 

The  ragged  jacket,  the  poor  shoes,  the  forlorn  cap,  the 
deciduous  pantaloon  which  has  shed  the  leaves  of  fresh- 
3 


26  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

ness — ^these  are  not  laughed  at ;  they  do  not  move  the 
youthful  soul  to  ridicule.  It  is  a  lovely  trait  in  the  charac- 
ter of  boyhood  that  poverty  is  no  disgrace.  But  a  velvet 
jacket,  a  peculiar  collar,  hair  cut  in  a  singular  fashion,  long 
hair  especially — these  are  cruel  guide-posts  to  the  young 
bully.  He  makes  the  picturesque  wearer  whose  prettiness 
delights  his  mother  suffer  for  this  peculiar  grace  most 
fearfully. 

Little  girls,  more  precocious  than  boys,  suffer,  however, 
less  from  the  pangs  of  ridicule  ;  yet  they  have  their  sorrows. 
An  intelligent  and  poetical  girl  is  laughed  at  for  her  rhap- 
sodies, her  fine  language,  or  her  totally  innocent  exaggera- 
tions. She  gets  the  name  of  fib-teller  when  she  is  perhaps 
but  painting  a  bluer  sky  or  describing  a  brighter  sun  than 
her  fellow-beings  can  see.  But  a  little  girl  has  generally 
a  great  deal  of  vanity  to  help  her  along,  and  much  tact  to 
tell  her  where  to  go,  so  that  her  sufferings  are  less  severe 
than  those  of  a  boy.  She  gravitates  naturally  toward  the 
amenities,  and,  if  she  is  not  a  well-bred  person,  it  is  largely 
the  fault  of  her  surroundings. 


IV. 

EDUCATION  AND  MANNERS  OF  GIRLS. 

We  come  now  to  the  subject  which  perhaps  has  only  re- 
motely to  do  with  the  amenities  of  home,  but  much  to  do 
with  the  welfare  of  the  state.  We  must  consider  the  two 
extremes  which  are  now  being  brought  about  by  the  eman- 
cipation of  young  women.  One  is,  their  higher  education, 
the  other  is,  the  growing  *^  fastness  "  of  manner. 

One  can  scarcely  imagine  amenity  of  manner  without 
education,  and  yet  we  are  forced  to  observe  that  it  can  exist, 
as  we  see  the  manners  of  highly  educated  and  what  are  called 
strong-minded  women.  Soft,  gentle,  and  feminine  man- 
ners do  not  always  accompany  culture  and  education.  In- 
deed, preoccupation  in  literary  matters  used  to  be  supposed 
to  unfit  a  woman  for  being  a  graceful  member  of  society, 
but  nous  avons  change  tout  cela;  and  we  are  now  in  the  very 
midst  of  a  well-dressed  and  well-mannered  set  of  women 
who  work  at  their  pen  as  Penelope  at  her  web. 

The  home  influence  is,  however,  still  needed  for  those 
young  daughters  who  begin  early  to  live  in  books  ;  and 
neatness  in  dress  and  order  should  be  insisted  upon  by  the 
mother  of  a  bookish,  studious  girl.  All  students  are  disposed 
to  be  slovenly,  excepting  an  unusual  class,  who,  like  the 
Count  de  Buffin,  write  in  lace  ruffles  and  diamond  rings. 
Books  are  apt  to  soil  the  hands,  and  libraries,  although  they 
look  clean,  are  prone  to  accumulate  dust.  Ink  is  a  very 
permeating  material,  and  creeps  up  under  the  middle  fin- 


28  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

ger-nail.  To  appear  with  such  evidences  of  guilt  upon  one 
would  make  the  prettiest  woman  unlovely. 

The  amenities  of  manner  are  not  quite  enough  consid- 
ered at  some  of  our  female  colleges.  With  the  college  course 
the  young  graduates  are  apt  to  copy  masculine  manners, 
and  we  have  heard  of  a  class  who  cheered  from  a  boat  their 
fellow-students  at  West  Point.  This  is  not  graceful,  and  to 
some  minds  would  more  than  balance  the  advantages  of 
the  severe  course  of  study  marked  out  and  pursued  at  col- 
lege. A  mother  with  gentle  and  lady-like  manners  would, 
however,  soon  counteract  these  masculine  tendencies  and 
overflow  of  youthful  spirits.  We  all  detest  a  man  who 
copies  the  feminine  style  of  dress,  intonation,  and  gesture. 
Why  should  a  girl  be  any  more  attractive  who  wears  an 
ulster,  a  Derby  hat,  and  who  strides,  puts  her  hands  in  her 
pockets,  and  imitates  her  brother's  style  in  walk  and  ges- 
ture ? 

However,  to  a  girl  who  is  absorbed  in  books,  who  is  read- 
ing, studying,  and  thinking,  we  can  forgive  much  if  she 
only  will  come  out  a  really  cultivated  woman.  We  know 
that  she  will  be  a  power  in  the  state,  an  addition  to  the 
better  forces  of  our  government ;  that  she  will  be  not  only 
happy  herself,  but  the  cause  of  happiness  in  others.  The 
cultivated  woman  is  a  much  more  useful  factor  in  civiliza- 
tion than  the  vain,  silly,  and  flippant  woman,  although  the 
latter  may  be  prettier.  But  it  is  a  great  pity  that,  having 
gone  so  far,  she  should  not  go  further,  and  come  out  a  cul- 
tivated flower,  instead  of  a  learned  weed. 

Far  more  reprehensible  and  destructive  of  all  amenities, 
is  the  growing  tendency  to  "fastness,"  an  exotic  which  we 
have  imported  from  somewhere  ;  probably  from  the  days  of 
the  Empire  in  Paris. 

It  seems  hardly  possible  that  the  "  fast  "  woman  of  the 
present,  whose  fashion  has  been  achieved  by  her  question- 
able talk,  her  excessive  dress,  her  doubtful  manners,  can 


EDUCATION  AND  MANNERS  OF  GIRLS.         29 

have  grown  out  of  the  same  soil  that  produced  Priscilla 
Mullins.  The  old  Puritan  Fathers  would  have  turned  the 
helm  of  the  Mayflower  the  other  way  if  they  could  have  seen 
the  product  of  one  hundred  years  of  independence.  Now 
all  Europe  rings  with  the  stories  of  American  women,  young, 
beautiful,  charmingly  dressed,  who  live  away  from  their 
husbands,  flirt  with  princes,  make  themselves  the  common 
talk  of  all  the  nations,  and  are  delighted  with  their  own 
notoriety.  To  educate  daughters  to  such  a  fate  seems  to 
recall  the  story  of  the  Harpies.  Surely  no  mother  can 
coolly  contemplate  it.  And  the  amenities  of  home  should 
be  so  strict  and  so  guarded  that  this  fate  would  be  impos- 
sible. 

In  the  first  place,  young  girls  should  not  be  allowed  to 
walk  in  the  crowded  streets  of  New  York  alone ;  a  com- 
panion, a  friend,  a  maid,  should  always  be  sent  with  them. 
Lady  Thornton  said,  after  one  year's  experience  of  Wash- 
ington, '*  I  must  bring  on  a  very  strict  English  governess 
to  walk  about  with  my  girls. "  And  in  the  various  games 
so  much  in  fashion  now,  such  as  skating  and  lawn-tennis, 
there  is  no  doubt  as  much  necessity  for  a  chaperon  as  in 
attending  balls  and  parties.  Not  alone  that  impropriety  is 
to  be  checked,  but  that  manners  may  be  cultivated.  A  well- 
bred  woman  who  is  shocked  at  slang,  and  who  presents  in 
her  own  person  a  constant  picture  of  good  manners,  is 
like  the  atmosphere,  a  presence  which  is  felt,  and  who  un- 
consciously educates  the  young  persons  about  her. 

"  I  have  never  gotten  over  Aunt  Lydia's  smile,"  said  a 
soldier  on  the  plains,  who,  amid  the  terrible  life  of  camp 
and  the  perils  of  Indian  warfare,  had  never  lost  the  amen- 
ities of  civilized  life.  "  When  a  boy  I  used  to  look  up  at 
the  table,  through  a  long  line  of  boisterous  children  clam- 
oring for  food,  and  see  my  Aunt  Lydia's  face.  It  never  lost 
its  serenity,  and  when  things  were  going  very  wrong  she  had 
but  to  look  at  us  and  smile,  to  bring  out  all  right.     She 


30  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

seemed  to  say  with  that  silent  smile,  'Be.  patient,  be  strong, 
be  gentle,  and  all  Avill  come  right. ' " 

The  maiden  aunt  was  a  perpetual  benediction  in  that 
house,  because  of  her  manner ;  it  was,  of  course,  the  out- 
crop of  a  fine,  well-regulated,  sweet  character  ;  but  suppos- 
ing she  had  had  the  character  with  a  disagreeable  manner  ? 
The  result  would  have  been  lost. 

We  have  all  visited  in  families  where  the  large  flock  of 
children  came  forward  to  meet  us  with  outstretched  hand 
and  ready  smile.  We  have  seen  them  at  table,  peaceful  and 
quiet,  waiting  their  turn.  We  have  also  visited  in  other 
houses  where  we  have  found  them  discourteous,  sullen,  ill- 
mannered,  and  noisy.  We  know  that  the  latter  have  all 
the  talent,  the  good  natural  gifts,  the  originality,  and  the 
honor  of  the  former.  We  know  that  the  parents  have  just 
as  much  desire  in  the  latter  case  to  bring  up  their  children 
well,  but  where  have  they  failed  ?  They  have  wanted  firm- 
ness and  an  attention  to  the  amenities. 


RESPECT    FOR  THE  RIGHTS   OF   OTHERS. 

As  boys  and  girls  grow  up  to  manhood  and  woman- 
hood, parents  should  respect  that  nascent  dignity  which 
comes  with  the  age — they  should  respect  individuality.  It 
is  one  reason,  perhaps,  why  sisters  can  not  always  live  to- 
gether happily,  that  neither  has  been  taught  to  respect  the 
other's  strong  peculiarity  of  character,  at  least  in  outward 
manner.  If  we  treated  our  brothers  and  sisters  with  the 
same  respect  that  we  treat  our  formal  acquaintances  in 
matters  of  friendship,  opinion,  and  taste,  there  would  he 
gi'eater  harmony  in  households. 

One  of  the  first  and  most  apparent  duties  is  to  respect 
a  seal.  Never  open  your  children's  letters  after  they  are 
old  enough  to  read  them.  It  is  a  curious  element  of  self- 
respect  that  this  "community  of  letters"  which  exists  in 
some  families  hurts  the  feelings  of  a  young  per83n  from  the 
first.  Certain  coarse-grained  parents  or  relatives  tear  open 
Sam's  letters  from  Dick  and  laugh  at  them.  Certain 
other  parents  consider  it  a  duty  to  open  their  daughter's 
love-letters. 

Perhaps  in  the  attempt  to  keep  a  daughter  from  marry- 
ing improperly,  any  kind  of  warfare  is  allowable.  Ex- 
traordinary circumstances  make  extraordinary  precautions 
proper  ;  hut  it  should  be  the  last  resort.  No  girl  is  made 
better  by  espionage.  If  she  is  a  natural  born  intriguante, 
no  surveillance  will  defeat  her  (we  are  glad  to  go  out  of 


32  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

the  honest  English  tongue  to  find  words  to  express  these 
hateful  ideas).  If  she  is,  as  are  most  girls,  trembling  in 
the  balance  between  deceit  and  honesty,  a  fair,  open  deal- 
ing, a  belief  in  her,  will  bring  her  all  right.  Do  not  set 
servants  to  watch  her.  Do  not  open  her  letters.  Do  not 
spy  on  her  acts  or  abuse  her  friends.  She  will  be  far  more 
apt  to  come  right  if  she  is  treated  as  if  she  were  certain  to 
be  true,  frank,  and  honorable  in  all  her  acts. 

As  for  young  boys  and  men,  belief  in  their  word,  con- 
fidence in  their  honesty,  is  the  way  to  make  them  honor- 
able gentlemen.  Be  careful,  as  we  have  said  before,  not 
to  laugh  at  them  ;  respect  their  correspondence.  If  the 
rough-and-tumble  of  a  public  school  is  to  be  their  portion, 
there  is  no  fear  that  the  amenities  of  home  will  make  them 
effete.  They  will  need  all  their  polish  as  they  go  knocking 
through  the  world. 

A  husband  should  never  open  his  wife's  letters,  or  a 
wife  her  husband's.  All  people  have  their  individual  con- 
fidences which  each  is  bound  to  respect.  A  woman  of 
large  sympathies  and  wise  thoughts,  of  virtuous  life  and 
clear  head,  is  sure  to  have  a  large  correspondence .  Many 
weaker  people  write  to  her  for  advice,  consolation,  and 
help.  It  is  an  outrage  upon  their  belief  in  her  if  her  hus- 
band reads  those  letters.  The  correspondent  is  not  telling 
her  secrets  to  him.  If  a  wife  is  carrying  on  a  love  affair, 
her  husband  may  be  quite  sure  that  he  will  be  baffled  ; 
therefore  his  jealousy  will  not  be  gratified  on  opening  her 
letters.  Still  less  should  a  wife  open  her  husband's  letters. 
But  we  are  not  in  the  days  of  Othello  and  Desdemona, 
nor  are  we  dealing  with  passions  and  jealousies  ;  we  are 
not  treating  with  such  questions  as  these.  We  will  end 
this  by  repeating  the  old  adage  that  '^  a  seal  is  as  strong  as 
a  lock."  If  the  opening  of  letters  is  a  fact  which  is  treated 
carelessly  in  many  families,  it  becomes  a  part  of  that 
thoughtless  disregard  of  individuality  which  is  remotely 


RESPECT  FOR   THE  RIGHTS  OF  OTHERS.        33 

so  much  the  cause  of  unhappiness  at  home.  ''Did  we  but 
think,"  says  the  careless  person.  Exactly  !  ''Did  we  but 
remember."  Yes  !  To  think,  to  remember,  to  consider 
the  claims  of  all  about  us,  particularly  at  home,  is  the  be- 
ginning of  "the  amenities." 

One  should  be  particular  about  paying  small  debts  to 
the  members  of  the  family.  Tom  borrows  car-fare  from 
Dick  and  forgets  to  return  it.  Sarah  borrows  a  dollar 
from  Louisa  and  forgets  to  return  it.  Then  come  recrim- 
inations and  strife.  There  should  be,  in  the  first  place,  an 
effort  to  avoid  borrowing.  Nothing  is  so  good  for  children 
as  to  give  them  an  allowance,  and  to  insist  upon  its  lasting. 
It  teaches  them  economy  and  thrift.  If  this  is  impossible, 
then  instruct  them  in  the  impropriety  of  borrowing  and 
the  necessity  of  prompt  payments.  Of  course  this  is  all  a 
part  of  the  theory  of  respecting  the  rights  of  others.  We 
are  none  of  us  too  old  or  too  perfect  to  be  beyond  instruc- 
tion in  this  matter. 

And,  in  the  education  of  the  young,  parents  should  en- 
courage individuality.  They  should  not  try  to  smoothe  off 
their  children  to  a  dead  level  of  uniformity.  If  Rosa  can 
draw,  put  a  pencil  in  her  hand  and  encourage  her.  If 
Lucy  can  Avrite,  give  her  plenty  of  foolscap.  If  Bob  wants 
to  go  to  sea,  let  him  strive  for  the  naval  academy.  If  Ar- 
thur is  a  natural  orator,  bring  him  up  for  the  law.  If 
Charles  is  devotional,  strive  to  fan  the  flame  which  may 
make  him  a  preacher.  If  Max  has  a  tendency  to  save  his 
pennies,  try  in  the  first  place  to  make  him  philanthropic, 
so  that  he  will  not  end  in  being  a  miser ;  but  let  him  be 
educated  to  business.  If  Peter  shows  a  decided  taste  for 
art,  by  all  means  cultivate  it.  We  need  artists  in  America, 
and  they  are  no  longer  struggling  visionaries. 

Our  education  of  girls  tends  chiefly  toward  making 
them  admirable  figures  in  society,  and  to  a  certain  extent 
this  is  right.     But,  if  she  has  nothing  behind  that  worldly 


34  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

training,  the  young  girl  is  apt,  after  a  short  worldly  experi- 
ence, either  to  violently  react  and  to  hate  it  all ;  she  either 
grows  morbidly  sensitive  to  opinion,  or  she  stagnates  into 
conventionality — either  of  which  extremes  should  be  avoid- 
ed. There  is  no  sadder  sight  than  to  see  our  young  women 
growing  up  with  no  high  aims  or  thoughts  to  guide  them. 
Society  is  her  power.  She  is  the  future  regenerator,  the 
preserver  of  society.  If  her  aims  are  high  and  pure,  society 
will  be  high  and  pure. 

De  Tocqueville  said  many  years  ago,  in  his  book  ^'De- 
mocracy in  America,"  ''  If  I  were  asked  to  what  the  singular 
prosperity  and  growing  strength  of  the  Americans  ought 
mainly  to  be  attributed,  I  should  reply.  To  the  superiority 
of  their  women."  This  is  high  praise,  and  the  young 
women  of  America  should  not  consent  to  go  below  it. 

But  it  is  to  be  regretted  that  the  high  standard  of  dig- 
nity, in  the  manners  of  both  the  men  and  women  of  this 
country  (and  shall  I  say  their  characters  ?),  has  steadily 
retrograded  since  the  days  following  the  Eevolution.  There 
was  then  lingering  in  our  country  many  an  English  tradi- 
tion of  reverence  now  forgotten  or  considered  obsolete. 

There  was  a  great  necessity  of  economy.  Every  house- 
wife had  to  look  well  after  the  affairs  of  her  household. 
There  were  fewer  and  better  servants,  and  the  lady  of  the 
house  felt  her  responsibilities  more.  There  was  less  liv- 
ing in  boarding-houses  and  hotels.  Home  was  a  more 
sacred  place.  The  amenities  of  home  were  more  carefully 
observed.  It  is  to  be  feared  that  we  are  losing  that  high 
ideal.  We  are  going  on  and  on  and  on,  dropping  many 
an  embroidered  mantle  of  good  manners  as  we  run. 

The  sudden  accession  of  wealth  should  not  make  people 
less  well-mannered.  The  pursuit  of  wealth  is  no  doubt 
very  destructive  to  good  manners,  but  when  it  is  won,  as  it 
now  is  by  so  many  Americans,  should  it  not  bring  back  all 
those  amenities,  as  we  are  bringing  back  the  brocades,  the 


RESPECT  FOR  THE  RIGHTS  OF  OTHERS.        35 

bureaus,  the  old  clocks,  and  the  carved  mantelpieces  of  our 
Revolutionary  forefathers  ?  We  are  beginning  to  find  out 
that  they  built  better  houses  in  colonial  times  than  we  do  ; 
that  they  had  more  elegant  interiors ;  that  their  fireplaces 
are  things  to  copy ;  that  there  is  no  such  furniture  as  their 
claw-footed  mahogany  chairs.  And  we  should  remember 
that  the  manners  of  those  pretty  great-grandmothers  of 
ours,  whom  Copley  painted,  were  as  well  worth  our  copying 
as  are  the  chairs  in  which  they  sat  or  the  fireplaces  which 
they  looked  at. 

The  picture  of  the  old-time  lady  sitting  in  her  parlor,  to 
receive  the  hand-kiss  from  her  sons  and  the  respectful  sub- 
mission of  her  daughters — such  a  one  of  whom  her  son  said, 
"You  can  not  imagine  my  horror  when  I  once  believed, 
the  next  morning,  that  my  mother  had  seen  me  drunk  " — 
the  dignified  matron,  who  still,  in  her  early  morning  desha- 
bille, which  was  as  neat  and  pretty  as  her  afternoon  silk 
was  elegant,  attended  to  her  household  duties,  and  taught 
her  children  the  secrets  of  cookery  ;  she  who  was  from  youth 
to  age  a  pattern  of  dignity  and  the  domestic  virtues,  she — 
is  a  vanished  picture. 

To  be  sure,  the  times  have  changed.  The  married  flirt 
has  come  in,  a  being  unknown  in  the  days  of  the  fine  old 
colonial  lady  whom  Copley  painted,  and  as  unlike  to  her  as 
is  the  painted,  gilded,  twisted  looking-glass  frame,  of  the 
poorer  fashion  of  ten  years  ago,  to  the  severely  simple  and 
classically  elegant  frame  which  our  grandmothers  saw  sur- 
rounding their  own  charming  images.  The  married  flirt, 
hardened,  dexterous,  capable  of  preserving  her  place  at  the 
head  of  a  household  by  her  imperturbable  hypocrisy  and 
vulgar  cunning,  held  in  favor  by  that  universal  and 
national  mistake  of  adoring  success  which  is  our  American 
mistake — what  sort  of  a  home  does  she  make  ?  "What  rever- 
ence for  womanhood  will  she  inspire  in  her  growing  son  ? 

Fit  mother,  she  !  for  the  young  speculator,  gambler,  and 


36  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

fraud,  who  is  a  great  man,  a  hero,  until  he  fails,  and  then 
a  very  degraded  and  abased  ruffian.  ^"0  language  is  suffi- 
ciently abusive  for  the  man  who  has  failed.  Americans 
never  forgive  a  failure. 

The  word  "  familiarity "  was  unknown  to  the  women 
whom  Copley  painted.  They  were  surrounded  with  respect 
and  dignity.  If  a  woman  fell,  great  was  the  fall  thereof, 
and  she  left  her  place  among  the  matrons.  The  shadow  of 
the  "  Scarlet  Letter"  drove  even  the  innocently  suspected 
from  the  ranks  of  society.  Far  different  from  our  times, 
when  a  reputation  for  "fastness"  is  sought  as  a  means  of 
obtaining  a  fashionable  position. 

The  rich  parvenu  society,  which,  like  a  mushroom 
growth,  follows  suddenly  acquired  wealth,  is  now  apt  to  be 
exceedingly  fast  and  utterly  rowdy.  Here  and  there,  per- 
sons of  native  refinement  and  an  intuitive  sense  of  the  be- 
coming, endeavor  to  stem  the  tide ;  but  feebly,  for  the 
tides  of  fashion  are  like  those  which  pour  into  the  Bay 
of  Fundy,  irresistible,  carrying  all  before  them  on  their 
tremendous  waves.  Fastness  and  fashion  and  folly  are 
cumulative,  and,  if  one  woman  makes  herself  noticed  by 
eccentric  defiance  of  what  was  once  considered  decency, 
another,  a  thousand  others,  follows  in  her  wake,  thinking 
that  this  defiance  is  the  thing.  One  beautiful  "fast" 
woman  who  succeeds  makes  a  hundred  converts.  She  is 
conspicuous,  like  a  balloon,  and  no  one  stops  to  ask  whether 
the  gas  will  cause  her  to  explode,  or  where  she  will  alight 
when  she  comes  down.  The  only  criticism  is,  "What  a 
sensation  she  makes  going  up  !  "  This  is  not  alone  a  feat- 
ure of  our  American  society,  but  of  the  English  mod- 
ern fashion,  as  we  can  but  learn  from  the  articles  in  the 
"Saturday  Review,"  "The  London  Truth,"  and  "The 
World."  In  an  article  called  "  The  Maiden's  Progress,"  in 
a  late  issue  of  Edmund  Yates's  paper,  we  hear  the  most  start- 
ling opinions  pronounced  upon  the  young  English  maiden 


RESPECT  FOR  THE  RIGHTS  OF  OTHERS.        37 

of  to-day  and  her  growing  freedom  of  manner.  Giddiness 
and  forwardness,  according  to  the  '^Saturday  Review,"  are 
the  prominent  characteristics  of  these  young  English  girls 
whom  we  have  loved  to  consider  like 

"A  violet,  by  a  mossj  stone, 
Half  hidden  from  the  eye." 

Much  of  this  change  is  attributed  to  the  Prince  of 
"Wales,  who,  as  a  noble  lady  of  the  old  school  said,  "  is  not 
in  good  society  in  England."  Another  cause  is  said  to  be 
owing  to  the  peers  and  baronets  of  recent  creation  having 
been  raised  by  their  wealth  to  rank  and  title,  who  are  sup- 
posed to  bring  in  false  standards  of  honor. 

If  the  English  home  fail  us,  where  shall  we  look  ?  Emer- 
son says:  ^'^  Domesticity  is  the  tap-root  which  enables  the 
nation  to  branch  high  and  wide.  The  motive  and  end  of 
their  trade  and  empire  is  to  guard  the  independence  and 
privacy  of  their  homes,  Nothing  so  much  marks  their 
manners  as  the  concentration  on  their  household  ties. 
This  domesticity  is  carried  into  court  and  camp.  The  song 
of  1596  says,  'The  wife  of  every  Englishman  is  counted 
blest.'  The  sentiment  of  Imogen  in  'Cymbeline'  is  copied 
from  English  nature,  and  not  less  the  Portia  of  Brutus,  the 
Kate  Percy,  and  the  Desdemona.  The  romance  does  not  ex- 
ceed the  height  of  noble  passion  in  Mrs.  Lucy  Hutchinson 
or  in  Lady  Eussell,  or  even,  as  one  discerns  through  the 
plain  prose  of  Pepys's  'Diary,'  the  sacred  habit  of  an  Eng- 
lish wife.  Sir  Samuel  Romilly  could  not  bear  the  death  of 
his  wife.  Every  class  has  its  noble  and  tender  examples. 
England  produces  under  favorable  conditions  of  ease  and 
culture  the  finest  women  in  the  world  ;  and,  as  the  men  are 
affectionate  and  true-hearted,  the  women  inspire  and  refine 
them.  Nothing  can  be  more  delicate  without  being  fantas- 
tical, nothing  more  firm  and  based  in  nature  and  sentiment, 
than  the  courtship  and  mutual  carriage  of  the  sexes."     So 


38  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

much  for  a  noble  picture  painted  in  1857.  So  much  for 
the  race  from  which  we  sprang.  So  much  for  the  national 
virtues,  the  English  home,  which  we  have  fondly  hoped  to 
copy  ! 

It  is  disheartening  to  turn  from  the  grand  sketch  drawn 
by  Emerson  to  the  testimony  of  the  ^^  Saturday  Review." 
The  times  have  changed,  the  fashions  are  altered,  the  court 
is  debased,  and  the  fireside  profaned. 

We  can  and  must  believe  that  the  ideas  of  mankind  are 
undergoing  great  changes ;  that  the  incandescence  of  Ju- 
piter, the  fluidity  of  Saturn,  the  atmospheric  disturbance 
of  Mars,  and  the  tremendous  performances  in  the  sun,  our 
own  luminary,  are  being  paraphrased  in  the  minds  of  men  on 
this  little  orb.  We  see  such  a  modern  violation  of  decency 
as  that  the  late  Czar  of  Russia  married  four  months  after 
his  wife's  death,  and  yet  neither  Church  nor  State  objected  ; 
we  see  the  growth  of  socialism  and  communism  in  Ger- 
many, indifference  and  atheism  in  France,  confusion  and 
disintegration,  materialism  and  infidelity  in  America.  We 
can  not  shut  our  eyes  to  these  facts ;  they  are  what  we 
have  to  contend  with.  If  in  our  old-fashioned  way  we  still 
have  the  idea  of  an  old-fashioned  home  ;  if  we  believe  that 
fashion  perishes,  but  that  the  fireside  endures  for  qyqv  ;  if 
we  hope  to  make  the  amenities  of  home  fresh  and  growing 
plants  which  no  blight  of  popular  whirlwind  can  blast,  the 
one  unfading  and  immortal  instinct ;  if  we  believe  in  this, 
and  shall  try  to  preserve  it  intact,  we  must  bravely  consider 
the  force  of  our  enemy  and  look  to  our  guns,  not  underrat- 
ing the  strength  of  the  opposing  force,  nor  mildly  believing 
in  our  own,  but  praying  for  guidance  in  the  right  way. 


VI. 
THE  MODEL  GIRL. 

'*!  AM  SO  glad  I  have  no  daughters,"  said  a  leader  of 
society  ;  ^^for  what  should  I  do  with  them  ?  I  should  not 
wish  to  have  them  i)eculiar  girls,  dressed  differently  from 
their  mates,  or  marked  as  either  bookish  girls,  or  prudish 
girls,  or  non-dancing  girls,  or  anything  queer  ;  and  yet  I 
could  never  permit  them  to  go  out  on  a  coach,  be  out  to 
the  small  hours  of  the  night  with  no  chaperon  but  a 
woman  no  older  than  themselves.  I  could  not  allow  them 
to  dance  with  notorious  drunkards,  men  of  evil  life,  gam- 
blers, and  betting  men  ;  I  could  not  let  them  dress  as  many 
girls  do  whom  I  know  and  like  ;  so  I  am  sure  it  is  fortunate 
for  me  that  I  have  no  daughters.  I  could  not  see  them 
treat  my  friends  as  so  many  of  my  friends'  daughters  treat 
me — as  if  I  were  the  scum  of  the  universe.  I  am  glad  I 
have  no  daughters  ;  for  a  modern  daughter  Avould  kill  me." 

Perhaps  this  lady  but  elaborated  the  troublesome  prob- 
lem which  has  tried  the  intellects  of  all  observant  women 
— how  to  make  the  proper  medium  girl;  not  the  ^^fast" 
girl;  still  again,  not  the  *^  slow"  dowdy  girl;  not  the  ex- 
ceptional girl,  but  the  girl  who  shall  be  at  once  good  and 
successful — that  is  the  question  ? 

The  amenities  of  home,  the  culture  of  the  fireside,  the 
mingled  duty  and  pleasure  which  come  with  a  life  which 
has  already  its  duties  before  its  pleasures — this  would  seem 
to  make  the  model  girl.      The  care  and  interest  in  the 


40  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

younger  sisters  and  brothers  ;  a  comprehension  and  a  sym- 
pathy with  her  mother's  trials;  a  devotion  to  her  hard-, 
worked  father ;  a  desire  to  spare  him  one  burden  more,  to 
learn  the  music  he  loves,  to  play  to  him  of  an  evening ;  to 
be  not  only  the  admired  belle  of  the  ballroom,  but  also  the 
dearest  treasure  of  home  ;  to  help  along  the  boys  with  their 
lessons,  to  enter  into  those  trials  of  which  they  "will  not 
speak  ;  to  take  the  fractious  baby  from  the  patient  or  im- 
patient nurse's  arms,  and  to  toss  it  in  her  own  strong  young 
hands  and  smile  upon  it  with  her  own  pearly  teeth  and  red 
lips ;  to  take  what  comes  to  her  of  gayety  and  society  as 
an  outside  thing,  not  as  the  whole  of  life  ;  to  be  not  heart- 
broken if  one  invitation  fail,  or  if  one  dress  is  unbecoming  ; 
to  bear  the  slight  of  no  partner  for  the  German  with  a 
smiling  indifference  ;  to  be  cheerful  and  watchful ;  to  be 
fashionable  enough,  but  neither  fast  nor  furious  ;  to  be  cul- 
tivated, and  not  a  blue-stocking ;  to  be  artistic,  but  not 
eccentric  or  slovenly ;  to  be  a  lovely  woman  whom  men 
love,  and  yet  neither  coquette  nor  flirt — such  would  seem 
to  be  the  model  girl. 

And  it  is  home  and  its  amenities  which  must  make  her. 
School  can  not  do  it ;  society  can  not  and  will  not  do  it ; 
books  will  not  do  it,  although  they  will  help. 

And  here  we  have  much  to  say  on  the  books  which 
should  surround  a  girl.  We  must  seek  and  watch  and  try 
to  find  the  best  books  for  our  girls.  But  we  can  no  more 
prevent  a  bad  French  novel  from  falling  into  their  hands 
than  we  can  prevent  the  ivy  which  may  poison  them  from 
springing  up  in  the  hedge.  The  best  advice  we  can  give,  is 
to  let  a  girl  read  as  she  pleases  in  a  well-selected  library ; 
often  reading  with  her,  recommending  certain  books,  and 
forming  her  taste  as  much  as  possible  ;  then  leaving  her  to 
herself,  to  pick  out  the  books  she  likes.  Nothing  will  be 
so  sure  to  give  a  girl  a  desire  to  read  a  book  as  to  forbid  it, 
and  we  are  now  so  fortunate  in  the  crowd  of  really  good 


TEE  MODEL   GIRL.  41 

novels  and  most  unexceptional  magazines  which  lie  on 
our  tables  that  we  are  almost  sure  that  her  choice  will  be  a 
good  one  ;  for  she  can  find  so  much  more  good  than  bad. 

It  is  unwise  to  forbid  girls  to  read  novels.  They  are  to- 
day the  best  reading.  Fiction,  too,  is  natural  to  the  youth- 
ful mind.  It  is  absurd  to  suppose  that  Heaven  gave  us  our 
imagination  and  rosy  dreams  for  nothing.  They  are  the 
drapery  of  fact,  and  are  intended  to  soften  for  us  the  dreary 
outlines  of  duty.  No  girl  was  ever  injured,  if  she  were 
worth  saving,  by  a  little  novel-reading.  Indeed,  the  most 
ethical  writers  of  the  day  have  learned  that,  if  a  fact  is 
worth  knowing,  it  had  better  be  conveyed  in  the  agreeable 
form  of  a  fiction.  What  girl  would  ever  learn  so  much  of 
Florentine  history  in  any  other  way  as  she  learns  by  read- 
ing ^^Romola"?  What  better  picture  of  the  picturesque 
past  than  *^The  Last  Days  of  Pompeii"  ?  Walter  Scott's 
novels  are  the  veriest  mine  of  English  and  Scotch  history  ; 
and  we  might  go  on  indefinitely. 

As  for  studies  for  girls,  it  is  always  best  to  teach  them 
Latin,  as  a  solid  foundation  for  the  modern  languages,  if  for 
nothing  else  ;  as  much  arithmetic  as  they  can  stand ;  and 
then  go  on  to  the  higher  education  and  the  culture  which 
their  mature  minds  demand,  if  they  desire  it  and  are  equal 
to  it. 

But  no  mother  should  either  compel  or  allow  her  daugh- 
ter to  study  to  the  detriment  of  her  health.  The  moment 
a  girl's  body  begins  to  suffer,  then  her  mind  must  be  left 
free  from  intellectual  labor.  With  some  women  brain- work 
is  impossible.  It  produces  all  sorts  of  diseases,  and  makes 
them  at  once  a  nervous  wreck.  With  other  women  intel- 
lectual labor  is  a  necessity.  It  is  like  exercise  of  the  limbs. 
It  makes  them  grow  strong  and  rosy.  No  woman  who 
can  study  and  write,  and  at  the  same  time  eat  and  sleep, 
preserve  her  complexion  and  her  temper,  need  be  afraid  of 
intellectual  labor.     But  a  mother  must  watch  her  young 


42  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

student  closely,  else  in  the  ardor  of  emulation  amid  the  ex- 
citements of  school  she  may  break  down,  and  her  health 
leave  her  in  an  hour.  It  is  the  inexperienced  girl  who 
ruins  her  health  by  intellectual  labor. 

To  many  a  woman  intellectual  labor  is,  however,  a  neces- 
sity. It  carries  off  nervousness  ;  it  is  a  delightful  retreat 
from  disappointment ;  it  is  a  perfect  armor  against  enniii. 
What  the  convent  life  is  to  the  devotee,  what  the  fashion- 
able arena  is  to  the  belle,  what  the  inner  science  of  j)oli- 
tics  is  to  the  European  Avomen  of  ambition,  literary  work 
is  to  certain  intellectual  women.  So  a  mother  need  not 
fear  to  encourage  her  daughter  in  it,  if  she  sees  the  strong 
growing  taste,  and  finds  that  her  health  will  bear  it. 

But  we  fear  tliat  certain  fashionable  schools  have  ruined 
the  health  of  many  a  girl,  particularly  those  where  the 
rooms  are  situated  at  the  top  of  a  four-story  building,  as 
they  generally  are.  A  poor,  panting,  weary  girl  mounts 
these  cruel  steps  to  begin  the  incomprehensibly  difficult 
service  of  a  modern  school.  ^'  Why  do  you  never  go  out  at 
recess  ?  "  said  a  teacher  to  one  of  her  pupils.  "  Because  it 
hurts  my  heart  so  much  to  come  up  the  stairs,"  said  the 
poor  girl.  "Oh  !  but  you  shoiild  take  exercise,"  said  the 
teacher  ;  "look  at  Louisa's  color  !  " 

That  teacher  knew  as  much  of  pathology  as  she  did  of 
Hottentot ;  and  the  pupil  thus  advised  lies  to-day  a  hope- 
less invalid  on  her  bed. 


vir. 
THE  MANNERS   OF  YOUNG  MEN, 

But,  if  the  amenities  of  home  are  thus  hopefully  to 
direct  our  daughters  in  the  right  way,  what  will  they  do  for 
our  sons  ? 

Of  one  thing  we  may  be  certain,  there  is  no  royal  road 
by  which  we  can  make  '^good  young  men."  The  age  is  a 
dissolute  one.  The  story  of  temptation  and  indulgence  is 
not  new  or  finished.  The  worst  of  it  is  that  women  feed 
and  tempi'  the  indulgence  of  the  age.  AVomen  permit  a 
lack  of  respect.  Even  young  men  who  have  been  well 
brought  up  by  their  mothers  become  careless  when  associ- 
ating with  girls  who  assume  the  manners  and  customs  of 
young  men.  And  when  it  is  added  that  some  women  in 
good  society  hold  lax  ideas,  talk  in  double  entendre,  and 
encourage  instead  of  repressing  license,  how  can  young  men 
but  be  demoralized  ? 

If  women  show  disapproval  of  coarse  ideas  and  offensive 
habits,  men  drop  those  ideas  and  habits.  A  woman  is 
treated  by  men  exactly  as  she  elects  to  be  treated.  There 
is  a  growing  social  blot  in  our  society.  It  is  the  compla- 
cency with  which  women  bear  contemptuous  treatment 
from  men.  It  is  the  low  order  at  which  they  rate  them- 
selves, the  rowdiness  of  their  own  conduct,  the  forgiveness 
on  the  part  of  women  of  all  masculine  sins  of  omission,  that 
injures  men's  manners  irretrievably. 

Fast  men  and  women,  untrained  boys  and  girls,  people 
without  culture,  are  doing  much  to  injure  American  so- 


44  AMENITIES  OF  ROME. 

ciety.  They  are  injuring  the  immense  social  force  of  good 
manners.  Women  should  remember  this  part  of  their  duty. 
Men  will  not  be  chivalrous  or  deferential  unless  women 
wish  them  to  be. 

The  amenities  of  home  are  everything  to  a  boy.  With- 
out them  very  few  men  can  grow  to  be  gentlemen.  A 
man's  religion  is  learned  at  his  mother's  knee ;  and  often 
that  powerful  recollection  is  all  that  he  cares  for  on  a  sub- 
ject which  it  is  daily  becoming  more  and  more  of  a  fashion 
for  men  to  ignore.  His  politeness  and  deference  are  cer- 
tainly learned  there,  if  anywhere.  A  mother  must  remem- 
ber that  all  hints  which  she  gives  her  son,  as  to  a  graceful 
and  gentlemanly  bearing,  are  so  many  powerful  aids  to  his 
advancement  in  the  world.  A  clergyman  who  did  not  ap- 
prove of  dancing  still  sent  his  son  to  dancing-school,  be- 
cause, as  he  said,  he  wished  "him  to  learn  to  enter  a  draw- 
ing-room without  stumbling  over  the  piano." 

The  education  of  the  body  is  a  very  important  thing. 
The  joints  of  some  poor  boys  are  either  too  loosely  or  too 
tightly  hung,  and  they  find  it  difficult  to  either  enter  or 
leave  a  room  gracefully.  "  Don't  you  know  how  hard  it  is 
for  some  people  to  get  out  of  a  room  after  their  visit  is 
really  over  ?  One  would  think  they  had  been  built  in  your 
parlor  or  study,  and  were  waiting  to  be  launched,"  says 
Dr.  Holmes.  This  is  so  true  that  one  almost  may  suggest 
that  it  be  a  part  of  education  to  teach  a  boy  how  to  go  away. 
The  "  business  of  salutation  "  and  leave-taking  is  really  an 
important  part  of  education. 

One  great  argument  for  a  military  exercise  is  that  it 
teaches  the  stooping  to  stand  up,  the  lagging  to  walk,  the 
awkward  to  be  graceful,  the  shambling  to  step  accurately. 
Lord  Macaulay  in  his  old  age  wished  that  he  had  had  a 
military  training,  as  he  *' never  had  known  which  foot  to 
start  with." 

There  are  some  persons  born  into  the  world  graceful. 


TEE  MANNERS  OF  YOUNG  MEN.  45 

whose  bodies  always  obey  the  brain.  There  are  far  more 
who  have  no  such  physical  command.  To  those  who  have 
it  not,  it  must  be  taught.  The  amenities  of  home  should 
begin  with  the  morning  salutation,  a  graceful  bow  from  the 
boy  to  his  mother,  as  he  comes  into  breakfast. 

And  table  manners,  what  a  large  part  they  play  in  the 
amenities  of  home  !  A  mother  should  teach  her  boy  to 
avoid  both  greediness  and  indecision  at  table.  He  should 
be  taught  to  choose  what  he  wants  at  once,  and  to  eat 
quietly,  without  unnecessary  mumbling  noise.  Unless  she 
teaches  him  such  care  early,  he  will  hiss  at  his  soup  through 
life.  She  must  teach  him  to  hold  his  fork  in  his  right 
hand,  and  to  eat  with  it,  and  to  use  his  napkin  properly. 
If  Dr.  Johnson  had  been  taught  these  accomplishments 
early,  it  w^ould  have  been  more  agreeable  for  Mrs.  Thrale. 
Teach  j'Our  boy  the  grace  of  calmness.  Let  the  etiquette 
of  the  well-governed,  well-ordered  table  be  so  familiar  to 
him  that  he  will  not  be  flustered  if  he  upsets  a  wine-glass, 
or  utterly  discomposed  if  a  sneeze  or  a  choking  fit  require 
his  sudden  retreat  behind  his  napkin,  when,  after  he  leaves 
you,  he  essays  to  dine  abroad. 

Life  in  America  is  in  a  great  hurry,  and  the  breakfast 
before  school  or  business  can  not  be  in  most  families  the 
scene  of  much  instruction.  We  are  accused  by  foreigners 
of  bolting  our  food,  and  we  are  supposed  to  be  dyspeptic 
in.  consequence.  It  is  no  doubt  true  that  we  do  eat  too 
fast  and  too  much.  Seneca  tells  us  that  ^'  our  appetite  is 
dismissed  with  small  payment,  if  we  only  give  it  what  we 
owe  it,"  and  not  what  an  ungoverned  appetite  craves.  It 
is  a  debt  which  we  should  pay  slowly,  and  by  installments. 
But,  if  breakfast  is  hurried,  dinner  can  be  quiet  and  well 
ordered,  be  it  ornate  or  simple. 

Nothing  is  better  for  the  practice  of  the  amenities  of 
home  than  a  rigorous  determination  to  dress  for  dinner. 
This  does  not  mean  that  we  should  be  expensively  or  shovv- 


46  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

ily  dressed,  but  that  every  member  of  the  family  should 
appear  clean  and  brushed,  and  with  some  change  of  gar- 
ment. A  few  minutes  in  the  dressing-room  is  not  too 
much  of  a  tax  to  even  the  busiest  man,  and  he  comes  down 
much  refreshed  to  his  meal. 

A  lady  hardly  needs  any  urging  on  this  point  ;  but,  if 
any  one  does  need  urging,  it  is  certainly  worth  mentioning. 

Several  years  ago  a  growing  family  of  boys  and  girls 
were  taken  by  their  parents,  who  had  experienced  a  reverse 
of  fortune,  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  oil-wells  to  live.  It 
was  about  the  time  they  were  growing  up,  and  their  mother 
was  in  despair  as  she  thought  of  the  lost  opportunities  of 
her  children.  Nothing  about  them  but  ignorance.  No 
prospect,  no  schools,  no  anything.  But  in  the  depth  of  her 
love  she  found  inspiration. 

Out  of  the  wreck  of  her  fortunes  she  had  saved  enough 
to  furnish  parlor  and  dining-room  prettily,  and  to  buy  a  few 
handsome  lamps.  Books  were  there  in  plenty,  for  old  books 
sell  for  very  little ;  so  she  had  been  able  to  save  that  im- 
portant factor  of  civilization. 

Every  evening  her  lamps  were  lighted  and  her  dinner 
spread  as  if  for  a  feast ;  and  every  member  of  the  family 
was  made  to  come  in  as  neatly  dressed  as  if  it  were  a  party. 
The  father  and  mother  dressed  carefully,  and  the  evening 
was  enlivened  by  music  and  reading. 

She  attended  to  their  education  herself,  although  not 
fitted  for  it  by  her  own  training.  She  did  as  well  as  she 
could.  She  taught  them  to  bow  and  to  courtesy,  to  dance, 
to  draw,  to  paint,  to  play  and  sing ;  that  is,  she  started 
them  in  all  these  accomplishments.  In  five  years,  when 
better  fortunes  brought  them  to  the  city  again,  they  were  as 
well-bred  as  their  city  cousins,  and  all  her  friends  ap- 
plauded her  spirit.  This  was  done,  too,  with  only  the  as- 
sistance of  one  servant,  and  sometimes  with  not  even  that. 

It  required  enormous  courage,  persistence,  and  belief  in 


THE  MANNERS  OF  YOUNG  MEN.  47 

the  amenities  of  home.  How  many  women,  under  such 
doleful  circumstances,  would  have  sunk  into  slovenliness 
and  despair,  and  have  allowed  their  flock  to  run  wild,  like 
the  neighboring  turkeys  ! 

There  is  great  hope  for  country  children  who  are  sur- 
rounded by  a  certain  prosperity  and  agreeable  surroundings. 
They  see  more  of  their  parents  than  city  children  can;  and 
perhaps  the  ideal  home  is  always  in  the  country.  Those 
small  but  cultivated  New  England  villages,  those  inland 
cities,  those  rural  neighborhoods,  where  nature  helps  the 
mother,  where  the  natural  companionship  of  animals  is  pos- 
sible for  the  boys,  and  the  pony  comes  to  the  door  for  the 
girls ;  where  water  is  near  for  boating  and  fishing,  and  in 
winter  for  the  dear  delights  of  skating — such  is  the  beautiful 
home  around  which  the  memory  will  for  ever  cling.  The 
ideal  man  can  be  reared  there,  one  would  think — that  ideal 
man  whom  Richter  delighted  to  depict,  one  whose  loving 
heart  is  the  beginning  of  knowledge. 

We  could  paint  the  proper  place  for  the  ideal  man  to  be 
born  in,  if,  alas  !  for  all  our  theories,  he  did  not  occasionally 
spring  out  of  the  slums,  ascend  from  the  lowest  deeps,  and 
confute  all  our  theories  by  being  nature's  best  gem,  without 
ancestry,  without  home,  without  help,  without  culture. 

The  education  of  boys  in  cities  is  beset  with  difficulties; 
for  the  fashionable  education  may  lead  to  self-sufficiency 
and  conceit,  with  a  disdain  of  the  solid  virtues  ;  or  it  may 
lead  to  effeminacy  and  foppishness — the  worst  faults  of  an 
American.  These  two  last  faults  are,  however,  not  fashion- 
able or  common  faults  in  our  day.  There  is  a  sense  of  su- 
periority engendered  in  the  "  smart  young  man,"  so  called, 
which  is  very  offensive.  All  snobs  are  detestable ;  the 
American  snob  is  preeminently  detestable. 

A  young  man  of  fashion  in  New  York  is  apt  to  get 
him  a  habitual  sneer,  which  is  not  becoming,  and  to  assume 
an  air  of  patronage,  which  is  foolish.     He  has  a  love  for  dis- 


48  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

cussing  evil  things,  wliicli  has  a  very  poor  effect  on  his 
mind  ;  he  has  no  true  ideas  of  courtesy  or  good-breeding  ; 
he  is  thoroughly  selfish,  and  grows  more  and  more  debased 
in  his  pleasures,  as  self-indulgence  becomes  the  law  of  his 
life. 

His  outward  varnish  of  manner  is  so  thin  that  it  does 
not  disguise  his  inner  worthlessness.  It  is  like  that  varnish 
which  discloses  the  true  grain  of  the  wood.  Some  people 
of  showy  manners  are  thoroughly  ill  bred  at  heart.  None 
of  these  men  have  the  tradition  of  fine  manners,  that  old- 
world  breeding  of  which  we  have  spoken.  They  would  be 
then  able  to  cover  up  their  poverty  ;  but  they  have  not 
quite  enough  for  that ;  and  they  truly  believe — these  mis- 
guided youths — that  a  rich  father,  a  fashionable  mother, 
an  air  of  ineffable  conceit,  will  carry  them  through  the 
world.  It  is  astonishingly  true  that  it  goes  a  great  way, 
but  not  the  whole  way. 

No  youth,  bred  in  a  thoroughly  virtuous  and  respectable 
family,  grows  up  to  be  very  much  of  a  snob,  let  us  hope. 
Alas !  he  may  become  a  drunkard,  a  gambler,  a  failure. 
And  then  we  come  up  standing  against  that  great  cruel 
stone  wall,  that  unanswered  question,  *^Why  have  I 
wrought  and  prayed  to  no  purpose  ? "  And  who  shall 
answer  us  ? 

It  is  the  one  who  sins  least  who  is  found  out,  and  who 
gets  the  most  punishmenb. 

There  is  a  pathetic  goodness  about  some  great  sinners 
which  they  never  lose.  TVe  love  the  poor  fallen  one  whom 
we  try  to  save.  Never  are  the  amenities  of  home  more  pre- 
cious, more  sacred,  more  touching,  than  when  they  try  to 
help  the  faltering,  stumbling  footstep  ;  to  hide  the  disgrace, 
to  shelter  the  guilty,  to  ignore,  if  possible,  the  failing  which 
easily  besets  the  prodigal  son  ;  to  welcome  him  back  when 
society  has  discarded  him ;  to  be  patient  with  his  pettish- 
ness,  and  to  cover  his  faults  with  the  mantle  of  forgiveness  : 


THE  MANNERS  OF  YOUNG  MEN  49 

all  these  are  too  tragic,  too  noble,  too  sacred  for  us  to  dilate 
upon.     They  are  the  amenities  of  heaven. 

Society  makes  no  explanations  and  asks  none,  else  we 
might  ask  why  some  men  and  women  are  tolerated,  and  why 
others  are  cast  out  ?  Why  some  young  man  who  had  once 
forgotten  himself  after  dinner  is  held  up  to  scorn,  and  why 
another  is  forgiven  even  through  the  worst  scandal  ?  Why 
is  injustice  ever  done  ? 

Many  a  young  man,  having  experienced  injustice  at  the 
hands  of  society,  goes  off  and  deliberately  commits  moral 
suicide.  The^onduct  of  society  is  profoundly  illogical,  and 
we  can  not  reform  it. 


VIII. 

CONSIDERATION  FOR  EACH  OTHER. 

Too  great  care  can  not  be  taken  in  the  family  circle  of 
each  other's  feelings.  Never  attack  your  brother's  friend. 
Remember  that  if  we  are  at  all  individual  we  can  not  like 
the  same  people,  see  the  same  resemblances,  or  enjoy  always 
the  same  book.  Temperaments  differ.  One  feels  a  draught 
and  wishes  the  window  shut  while  another  is  stifling  with 
heat.  "Were  we  among  strangers,  we  should  simply  bear 
with  the  draught  or  the  heat  without  speaking.  At  home 
it  grows  into  a  quarrel. 

"  I  am  so  glad  Louisa  has  gone  away,  for  now  I  can  shut 
the  window,"  said  a  sister  once,  who  found  it  so  impossible 
to  live  with  her  family  that  on  coming  into  her  property 
she  very  wisely  took  a  house  by  herself.  Perhaps  they  could 
not  live  in  the  same  atmosphere. 

Great  care  is  necessary  in  remarks  about  looks.  Never 
tell  people  that  they  are  looking  ill.  If  they  are  sensitive, 
as  most  people  are  about  their  health,  the  information  that 
they  look  ill  will  make  them  worse.  The  questions  and  the 
searching  glance  of  a  kind  mother  will  have  to  be  borne, 
for  she  is  the  natural  custodian  of  the  health  of  her  family ; 
but  even  that  annoys  most  people.  A  due  regard  for  the 
feelings  of  her  family  will  teach  her,  in  nine  cases  out  of 
ten,  to  hide  the  anxiety  she  may  feel. 

Cheerfulness  is  very  necessary  in  the  family.  If  a  per- 
son is  really  ill,  we  shall  find  it  out  soon  enough.  If  he 
desires  sympathy  he  will  come  for  it,  but  if  he  is  really 


CONSIDEEATTON  FOR  EACH  OTHER,  51 

ailing,  and  desirous  of  concealing  it,  we  should  respect  his 
secret,  nor  strive  to  woi-m  it  from  him.  Many  people  are 
made  ill  by  being  told  that  they  are  ill.  An  invalid  once 
said  that  the  sunshine  had  all  been  taken  out  of  his  morning 
walk  by  the  lugubrious  looks  of  a  friend,  who  shook  his 
head,  and  said,  '^  My  dear  fellow,  I  must  confess  that  you 
are  looking  very  badly."  But  there  is  a  class  whom  Moliere 
has  painted  in  the  ^''  Malade  Imaginaire,"  who  desire  noth- 
ing more  than  to  be  considered  ill,  who  are  always  looking 
for  sympathy  and  flattery. 

The  amenities  of  home  should  surround  the  real  invalid 
with  flowers,  sunshine,  agreeable  company,  if  it  can  be 
borne,  and  variety.  It  is  often  that  the  sick-room  of  some 
confirmed  sufferer  is  the  most  cheerful  room  in  the  house. 
If  there  is  a  pretty  new  thing  in  the  possession  of  any  mem- 
ber of  the  family,  it  finds  its  way  to  patient  Helen's  couch. 
If  there  is  a  new  book,  it  goes  to  her  to  have  its  leaves  cut ; 
and  if  any  one  has  a  song  or  story,  how  quickly  it  ascends 
to  that  person  1  *^  I  never  knew  how  happy  a  home  I  pos- 
sessed until  I  broke  my  leg,"  said  a  young  man,  to  whom 
a  broken  leg  was  a  fearful  interruption  to  business  and 
l^leasure. 

Remember  always  to  give  a  sick  person  what  variety  you 
can  command. 

Some  sufferers  from  fever  require  to  have  the  pictures 
changed  on  the  wall.  Some  invalids,  who  are  prisoners  for 
years  in  a  room,  are  better  for  a  new  wall-paper  or  a  new 
carpet.  Nothing  can  be  so  grateful  as  a  country  prospect 
of  wood  and  water,  hill  and  dale,  the  sky  at  morning  and 
at  evening.  The  city  is  a  hard  place  for  the  chronic  inva- 
lid who  can  see  nothing  but  the  opposite  row  of  houses. 
However,  the  scene  may  be  varied  by  the  presence  of  birds 
and  flowers ;  and  a  well-bred,  favorite  dog,  particularly  a 
big  one,  is  a  great  help. 

The  amenities  of  the  sicS-room  and  the  proper  manage- 


52  AMEMTIES  OF  HOME. 

ment  of  it  are  subjects  which  have,  however,  been  so  well 
treated  by  Florence  Nightingale,  and  others  who  have  made 
them  a  study,  that  they  seem  hardly  a  part  of  our  little 
treatise. 

The  mistress  of  a  house  should  never  reprove  her  ser- 
vants at  table  or  before  her  assembled  family.  It  destroys 
many  a  meal  at  home,  and  drives  young  men  to  their  club, 
if  their  mother  insists  upon  using  her  voice  loudly  in  re- 
proving a  refractory  servant.  No  doubt  she  is  often 
tempted  ;  no  doubt  it  is  very  necessary  ;  no  doubt  it  re- 
quires an  angelic  patience  to  refrain.  But  she  should  re- 
frain ;  she  should  be  angelic.  Let  the  man  drop  the  plates  ; 
she  must  be  ^'  mistress  of  herself,  though  China  fall ! " 
Let  the  maid  come  in  with  bare,  red  arms  and  a  frowsy  cap  ; 
the  mistress  must  bear  it  all  in  silence,  nor  seem  to  see  it, 
however  dreadful  it  may  be.  Then  let  her  descend  upon 
the  faulty  one,  and,  in  the  retirement  of  the  front  base- 
ment, have  it  out  with  her. 

Some  women  have  a  gift  at  training  "servants  which  is 
like  the  talent  which  generals  have  in  handling  an  army. 
They  can,  by  their  own  personal  magnetism,  make  a  ser- 
vant refrain  from  clattering  plates.  Others  have  no  such 
gift.  .  They  are  from  first  to  last  the  slaves  of  their  ser- 
vants, afraid  of  them,  and  unable  to  cope  with  them. 
"  Oh  !  that  I  could  make  a  request  which  is  a  command  as 
you  do,"  said  one  of  the  inefficient  to  the  efficient. 

It  is,  perhaps,  a  talent  which  can  not  be  learned ;  cer- 
tainly, after  many  failures,  we  do  not  wonder  that  the 
women  who  can  not  manage  servants  give  up  housekeeping, 
and  go  to  the  hotels  and  boarding-houses.  A  model  hostess 
is  said  to  be  one  who  has  a  knowledge  of  the  world  that 
nothing  can  impair,  a  calmness  of  temper  which  nothing 
can  disturb,  and  a  kindness  of  disposition  which  can  never 
be  exhausted.  Now,  that  is  rather  an  unusual  character. 
A  hostess  should  certainly  have  self-control,  and  should  not 


CONSIDERATION  FOR  EACH  OTHER.  53 

reprove  her  servants  before  company.  She  should  have 
tact,  good-breeding,  and  self-possession.  Even  then  she 
may  not  have  the  talent  to  create  good  service  out  of  the 
raw  material — the  clay  which  Ireland  sends  to  her.  She  can 
only  suffer  and  be  silent. 

We  have  spoken  of  the  impropriety  of  attacking  our 
brother's  friends.  If  we  can  not  like  them,  we  can  refrain 
from  knowing  them  intimately  ;  but  let  us  always  also  re- 
frain from  speaking  ill,  or  "  making  fun  "  of  those  persons 
who  are  liked  by  other  members  of  the  family.  There  are 
some  families — not  the  happiest  ones — where  this  is  done 
constantly.  If  Edmund  likes  Jack,  who  is  peculiar,  Wil- 
liam and  Susan  make  all  manner  of  ^^game  "  of  Jack,  and  he 
is  thus  excluded  from  the  house.  Edmund  hesitates  to  invite 
him,  as  he  knows  that  he  will  be  pained  by  these  ill-natured 
comments.  Certain  families  have  a  sort  of  acrid  disagreea- 
bility,  which  they  call  wit,  which  overflows  in  this  wa}^ 
and  which  makes  home  anything  but  a  happy  place. 

Young  people  are  little  aware  how  badly  they  appear  as 
satirists.  They  do  not  know  enough,  as  a  general  thing, 
to  satirize  wisely.  It  takes  a  great  and  a  learned  person  to 
do  that.  Young  persons  should  be  optimists,  and  should 
admire  rather  than  condemn.  They  should  learn  that  cul- 
tivated persons  rarely  have  to  resort  to  such  weapons  as 
coarse  censure  and  crude  ridicule.  And,  even  if  in  the 
height  of  good  spirits  and  youthful  fun,  they  feel  like  ridi- 
culing the  friend  whom  their  brother  has  chosen,  let  them 
make  the  case  their  own,  and  try  to  imagine  how  they 
would  like  to  hear  their  own  favorite  friend  abused. 

Long  arguments  are  very  unwise,  and  almost  always 
lead  to  harsh,  unpleasant  feeling.  If  there  is  a  difference 
of  religion  in  the  family,  it  should  never  be  spoken  of  at 
table.  Many  a  youthful  convert  to  some  other  creed  has 
been  driven  from  home  by  the  thoughtless  and  unkind  re- 
marks of  his  family.     The  subject  of  religion  should  be 


64  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

rarely  or  never  introduced  between  more  than  two  talkers. 
The  expressions  of  even  earnest  believers  are  necessarily  so 
vague  that  the  conversation  can  rarely  do  any  good  ;  and  it 
is  far  wiser  for  the  youth  to  go  alone  to  the  clergyman 
whom  he  selects,  or  to  talk  to  his  father,  mother,  or  chosen 
friend  on  this  most  important  of  all  subjects.  Still  better  is 
it  to  take  prayerful  counsel  of  his  own  heart.  Never  make 
it  dinner-table  talk  ;  for  it  either  becomes  flij^pant  and 
irreverent,  or  it  leads  to  violent  quarrels  and  sometimes  to 
deadly  hatreds. 

A  difference  of  political  sentiment  also  is  dangerous  to 
the  amenities  of  home.  Brothers  had  better  not  indulge 
in  much  discussion  in  the  family  circle.  They  can  not 
feel  as  coolly  toward  each  other  as  ordinary  disputants — 
that  is  impossible.  They  can  only  differ,  and  often  quar- 
rel. The  few  who,  in  the  familiarity  of  home,  can  coolly 
argue  are  indeed  very  few. 

The  wise  and  learned  Phillips  Brooks  says  truly,  *^  Fa- 
miliarity does  not  breed  contempt  except  of  contemptible 
things  or  contemptible  people."  This  is  very  true.  But 
we  must  remember  that  familiarity  does  take  off  the  outer 
cuticle,  and  leave  us  very  defenseless.  We  are  not  the 
same  strong-handed,  steel-visaged  pefsonages  to  our  own 
family  that  we  are  to  the  outer  world.  They  know  us  too 
well,  and  we  know  them  too  well.  We  are  fighting  with- 
out gloves  with  our  own  people.  The  bitterness  and  hurt 
of  a  family  quarrel  is  a  proverb. 

Never  interrupt  each  other.  Let  each  speaker  have  his 
five  minutes,  and  say  out  his  say.  There  are  some  people 
so  notoriously  ill-bred  in  this  way  that  they  are  nuisances 
in  their  own  houses.  They  talk  on — on — on,  and  notice 
the  speech  of  others  not  a  jot.  Others  interrupt  when  one 
has  begun  a  sentence,  and  haye  no  sort  of  regard  for  the 
fact  that  even  the  lady  of  the  house  has  been  trying  to 
make  a  remark  for  some  time.     Hesitating,  slow  talkers 


CONSIDERATION  FOR  EACH  OTHER.  55 

are  very  apt  to  be-  ruled  out  by  fluent  ones.  Other  peo- 
ple have  a  deliberate  intention  of  spoiling  a  story  or  an 
epigram  by  sailing  in  across  the  bows  of  another ;  and  a 
still  more  reprehensible  class  lead  up  the  conversation  to  a 
mot  or  an  anecdote  which  they  wish  to  tell.  It  is  a  great 
sin  against  good-breeding  to  interrupt  a  person  who  is 
making  a  remark  or  about  to  make  one,  or  to  speak  before 
he  has  quite  finished.  The  slow  talker  usually  has  some- 
thing very  good  to  say,  and  the  word  which  he  is  trying  to 
find  is  worth  waiting  for.  The  fast  and  flippant  talker 
sweeps  all  before  him  with  his  weak  diaphanous  discourse. 
No  one  is  much  the  wiser  for  his  deluge  of  words  ;  the 
better  thought  is,  however,  washed  away,  and  the  slow 
talker  is  driven  from  the  field. 

Brilliant  talkers  have  very  great  temptations  in  this 
way.  Not  only  is  the  thought  pressing  for  utterance,  and 
the  word  dancing  on  the  end  of  the  tongue,  but  the  talker 
also  knows  that  a  laugh  will  follow  and  his  mot  will  be 
appreciated.  There  is  no  such  immediate  and  dear  ap- 
plause as  that  which  follows  a  ready  talker,  and  no  wonder 
that  he  finds  it  hard  to  be  a  good  listener. 

However,  to  be  a  good  listener  is  a  most  graceful  gift — 
particularly  to  a  good  talker.  It  is  such  an  act  of  self- 
sacrifice  !  Those  brilliant  *^  flashes  of  silence  " — how  much 
they  cost  the  ready-witted  talker !  Yet  it  is  to  him  a 
greater  art  than  to  talk  well,  for  it  calls  on  him  to  repress 
his  own  seething  speech,  and  to  hear  somebody  say  badly 
what  he  would  say  so  well. 

The  good  listeners  are  very  popular.  They  can,  even 
if  they  have  nothing  to  say,  still  promote  conversation  ; 
and  a  good  listener  who  looks  amused  seems  to  carry  on 
the  conversation.  He  knows  the  specialty  of  his  friend, 
and  can  wind  him  up  and  §et  him  going ;  and  if  he  is  an 
unselfish  good  listener,  he  will  put  in,  here  and  there,  the 
necessary  short  speech  which  is  just  what  the  talker  needed. 


56  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

Many  families  have  wit  and  the  ** give-and-take"  of  con- 
versation, and  so  supplement  each  other  admirably.  Many 
families  of  brothers  and  sisters  keep  the  table  in  a  roar  by 
their  felicitous  remarks,  their  happy  quotations,  and  their 
delicate  and  spicy  remarks  on  current  events.  They  agree 
as  well  in  conversation  and  are  as  harmonious  as  when  they 
are  singing.  But  there  are  others  where  a  disregard  for  the 
rights  of  conversation  spoils  the  amenities  of  the  dinner- 
table,  and  where  one  over-argumentative  brother,  or  one 
disputatious  sister,  or  a  father  who  overrides  all  his  chil- 
dren and  talks  while  they  are  talking,  or  a  mother  who 
has  no  talent  for  listening,  will  destroy  the  pleasure  of  the 
table,  of  the  evening  fireside  talk,  and  make  home  a  place 
to  be  deliberately  avoided. 

"I  wish  our  home  would  barn  up,"  said  an  unhappy 
boy,  who  could  not  see  any  other  way  out  of  his  domestic 
misery,  and  who  perhaps  intended  by  the  light  of  that  cor- 
rective fire  to  run  away  to  parts  unknown. 


IX. 

THE   TYRANT  OF   HOME. 

A  HAPPY  home  should  be  one  in  which  there  is  no 
despot. 

AYe  all  know  that  a  mother's  will  is  sometimes  so  phe- 
nomenally strong  that  she  is  little  less  than  an  eastern 
satrap.  We  see  it  in  the  pale,  repressed  looks  of  her 
maiden  daughters  who  follow  her  about  like  shadows, 
creatures  who  have  never  known  what  it  is  to  have  a 
thought  or  a  wish  of  their  own,  who  are  as  mutilated  in 
their  miserable  bondage  as  is  the  Chinese  foot  in  its  artifi- 
cial wrappings. 

There  are  mothers — beings  to  whom  God  has  permitted 
the  great  blessing  of  children — who  are  Molochs  in  their 
love  of  power.  They  do  not  wish  their  children  to  have  an 
individual  existence,  and  the  home  of  such  women  is  a 
most  unhappy  spot.  They  have  great  power  of  torture, 
and  they  seem  to  like  to  exercise  it. 

There  is  a  story  on  record  of  a  mother  who  hated  her 
two  elder  daughters,  and  compelled  them  to  eat  in  the 
garret,  to  sleep  in  poorly  furnished  rooms.  They  were  not 
permitted  to  come  to  the  family  table.  She  allowed  her 
two  younger  children  to  eat  with  her,  and  treated  them 
well.  AVhy  the  two  elder  women  submitted,  why  they  did 
not  take  their  leave,  is  not  mentioned ;  probably  because 
the  shadow  of  that  strong  will  pursued  them.  It  had  been 
over  them  from  childhood,  and  had  paralyzed  them.  To 
many  women,  family  pride,  a  dread  of  publicity,  a  shame 


58  AMEN^ITIES  OF  HOME. 

of  revealing  the  skeleton  in  the  closet,  are  all-powerful 
reasons  for  submitting  to  a  ruined  life.  Anything  rather 
than  public  exposure. 

Other  women,  having  a  despot  for  a  father,  hesitate  to 
marry  even  when  well  advanced  in  life  if  he  forbids.  A 
woman  of  forty  is  surely  old  enough  to  judge  for  herself  as 
to  whether  she  should  marry  or  not.  But,  if  she  has  been 
quelled,  put  down,  governed  to  death,  she  does  not  dare  to 
assert  herself.  She  has  not  determination  of  character 
enough  to  go  to  church  and  marry  the  man  of  her  choice. 
She  has  still  the  fear  hanging  over  her  of  the  despot. 

This  is  quite  too  great  a  respect  for  family  authority. 
We  are  by  no  means  advising  a  revolt  from  home  relations. 
But,  after  twenty-five,  a  woman  may  reasonably  take  her 
fate  into  her  own  hands  and  judge  for  herself.  It  is  wrong 
to  allow  our  parents  or  our  children  to  rule  our  own  per- 
sonal judgment  in  these  cases. 

The  amenities  of  home  can  not  be  said  to  be  many  in 
these  houses  of  tyrants.  No  wonder  that  deception  follows 
the  footsteps  of  such.  No  wonder  that  they  are  dogged 
with  the  constant  fear  of  a  revolt.  No  wonder  that  tyrants 
descend  to  the  business  of  bribing  servants  ;  that  they  dis- 
trust the  martyrs  about  them.  No  description  of  torture — 
not  the  dropping  of  water  on  the  head — can  be  equal  to  the 
suffering  of  a  son  or  daughter  who  has  thus  been  tyran- 
nized over.  Happy  is  he  who  outlives  it  or  gets  away  from 
it.  If  he  survive  the  torture,  he  can  well  afford  to  con- 
gratulate himself  on  extraordinary  self-possession  and  cour- 
age. 

''To  live  happily  it  is  an  excellent  maxim  to  take 
things  just  as  they  are."  Such  a  cause  is  politic,  but  it  is 
not  always  possible.  It  is  not  agreeable  to  a  young  woman 
to  see  her  hour  of  youth  pass  from  her  ;  to  see  her  friends 
marry,  become  happy  wives  and  mothers,  and  to  know  that 
she  can  not  follow  in  that  natural  course  because  a  tyranni- 


-  THE  TYRANT  OF  HOME.  59 

cal  father  or  motlier  happens  to  forbid.  Weak  minds,  of 
course,  give  up ;  they  conceive  it  most  safe  to  regulate  their 
lives  by  the  rules  of  others.  There  is  an  hour  of  great 
tribulation  and  a  life-long  regret.  They  dread  to  be  called 
"original  people."  They  think  that  the  "original"  shock 
society,  as  if  that  were  not  the  best  thing  which  could  hap- 
pen to  society  sometimes.  But  it  is  in  no  one's  power  to 
help  such  irresolute  persons.  They  must  help  themselves 
to  a  higher,  better  life.  They  should  remember  that  free- 
dom is  a  gift  of  God,  one  which  none  of  us  has  a  right  to 
do  away  with  any  more  than  he  has  a  right  to  cut  off  a 
right  hand.  And  if  the  tyranny  which  would  keep  us  from 
an  individual  life  comes  from  father,  mother,  brother,  sis- 
ter, we  are  to  emancipate  ourselves  from  it,  else  we  are  not 
doing  ourselves  justice.  A  spirit  which  lives  in  an  atmos- 
phere of  torpidity  and  dull  obedience  to  unjust  tyranny  is 
not  living.  "  For  to  make  children  live  only  by  the  opin- 
ions of  others,  to  train  them  not  to  influence,  but  to  submit 
to  the  world,  is  to  educate  them  to  think  that  others  can 
live  for  them  ;  is  to  train  them  up  to  inward  falseness  ;  is 
to  destroy  all  eternal  distinctions  between  right  and  wrong; 
is  to  reduce  them  to  the  dead  level  of  uneducated  unorigi- 
nality,  which  is  the  most  melancholy  feature  of  the  present 
day." 

The  school  of  home  is  said  to  be  the  best  school  for 
conquering  self.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  no  discipline  of 
home  will  be  like  pumice-stone,  rubbing  self  down  and  out 
so  completely  that  there  is  no  salient  point,  no  surface,  but 
a  dead  level. 

Tyrants  make  bad  servants.  Bad  temper,  injustice,  and 
tyranny  find  their  complement  in  a  service  which  is  of  the 
eye  rather  than  of  the  heart.  Good  servants,  who  compre- 
hend their  duties  and  who  try  to  do  them  conscientiously, 
should  be  let  alone.  Too  much  interference  makes  them 
cross  and  petulant.    It  vulgarizes  a  mistress  to  bo  constant- 


60  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

ly  nagging  her  servants,  and  it  lowers  the  tone  of  both  to 
be  in  a  constant  atmosphere  of  dispute  and  fault-finding. 
Yet  a  tyrannical  mistress  will  contrive  to  make  her  servants 
miserable,  and  yet  keep  them  in  her  slavery.  For  the  strong 
will  tells  here,  as  it  does  with  her  unhappy  children.  Ser- 
vants like  to  be  commanded.  All  ignorant  natures  desire 
to  follow  a  leader.  But  they  will  cheat  her  and  plunder 
her,  when  they  would  hesitate  to  do  the  slightest  wrong  to 
a  benignant  mistress. 

To  be  just  to  one's  servants ;  to  treat  them  as  if  they 
were  of  like  clay  as  ourselves ;  to  respect  their  religion, 
their  hours  of  recreation  ;  to  give  them  an  occasional  extra 
holiday  or  an  appropriate  present ;  to  inquire  for  their 
health ;  to  wish  them  good-morning  and  good-night ;  to 
have  an  eye  to  their  welfare  ;  to  help  them  properly  to  in- 
vest their  earnings  ;  to  write  their  letters  for  them  ;  to  teach 
them,  if  they  are  young  enough  to  learn,  to  write  and  read 
— these  are  the  duties  and  pleasures  of  a  good  mistress. 

Misrepresentation  of  motives,  suspicions,  and  unrequired 
tasks,  which  servants  soon  see  are  given  to  them  merely 
to  impose  upon  them,  will  spoil  the  best  domestic.  If  an 
honest  servant  is  suspected  of  theft,  it  goes  far  toward 
making  him  willing  to  steal.  Servants  are  not  very  sensi- 
tive, it  is  true ;  their  hard  lives  have  trampled  out  that 
flower.  A  woman  who  is  not  a  tyrant  will  try  to  raise  the 
self-respect  of  her  servant,  so  that  she  will  feel  judicious 
praise  or  blame.  Servants  hate  to  be  reproved  in  public. 
It  drives  them  either  into  impertinence  or  into  a  stolid  in- 
difference ;  and  mortification  is  often  the  parent  of  bitter 
recrimination. 

The  home,  therefore,  over  whose  jurisdictions  a  tyrant 
presides,  may  be  said  to  be  the  most  truly  unhappy  of 
homes.  The  spendthrift  father  makes  a  most  miserable 
home,  with  his  lack  of  prudence  and  foresight ;  the  drunk- 
ard's home  is  not  the  abode  of  bliss  ;  the  false  and  frivolous 


THE  TYRANT  OF  HOME.  61 

wife  makes  a  miserable  home  for  all  connected  with  her. 
But  all  of  these  miserable  sinners  have  their  hours  of  ten- 
derness and  good  nature.  Their  children  will  remember, 
with  tearful  gratitude,  some  hours  of  love  and  of  happiness. 
There  was  much  to  forgive,  but  there  was  reason  for  for- 
giving. But  the  home  of  the  tyrant  is  an  eternal  blight. 
Like  those  sage  plains  of  the  West,  where  the  skin  dries  and 
the  earth  cracks  and  the  nails  break,  and  where  no  green 
thing  will  flourish,  where  life  seems  almost  impossible, 
except  in  its  lowest  conditions,  such  is  the  home  of  the 
tyrant  and  the  despot. 


X. 

THE  FIRST  ENGAGEMENT. 

It  is  pleasant  to  turn  to  one  of  the  brightest  chapters  of 
the  amenities  of  home  after  leaving  the  tyrants  in  gloomy 
solitude,  and  consider  that  pleasant  episode  of  home  life, 
*^the  first  engagement." 

When  it  is  an  arrangement  which  satisfies  prudent 
papa  and  mamma,  this  is  the  most  delightful  moment  of 
mature  life.  It  makes  one  young  again  to  see  the  happi- 
ness of  two  young  lovers.  *^  All  men  love  a  lover."  The 
introduction  of  a  new  son  or  daughter — that  deep  feeling 
of  rest  that  our  son  or  daughter  is  to  have  the  anchorage  of 
marriage — these  are  delicious  reflections.  We  forget  our 
trials,  our  cankering  cares  ;  we  forget  that  they,  too,  must 
fight  the  same  hard  battle  of  life  which  we  have  got  nearly 
through,  and  we  see  only  the  blissful  side  of  the  picture. 
If,  however,  we  do  not  entirely  approve,  it  is  a  great  duty, 
and  one  which  we  owe  our  children,  to  hide  from  them  any 
fancied  antipathy  to  the  chosen  one  whom  we  may  not 
wholly  love.  Given  good  principles  and  good  education, 
good  health  and  a  moderate  certainty  of  a  future  living, 
and  no  parent  has  a  right,  if  his  child  is  sincerely  attached, 
to  find  fault  with  his  or  her  choice. 

Of  course,  no  mother  ever  saw  any  wife  quite  good 
enough  for  her  son  ;  no  father  imagines  that  the  man  can 
be  born  who  is  worthy  of  his  daughter.  Sometimes,  with- 
out meaning  it,  this  feeling  will  show  itself ;  but  it  had 
much  better  be  kept  out  of  sight,  if  possible. 


THE  FIRST  ENGAGEMENT.  63 

Either  a  family  should  take  a  girl  wholly  to  their 
hearts,  and  treat  her  as  their  own  daughter,  or  they  should 
decidedly  disapprove  from  the  first.  No  mutilated  cour- 
tesy, no  half-handed  generosity,  no  carping  criticism  is  just 
or  honorable.  That  their  son  loves  her,  wishes  to  make 
her  his  wife,  should  be  a  very  unanswerable  argument  for 
her  hearty  adoption  into  the  family.  And  with  regard  to 
a  daughter's  husband  the  same,  and  even  greater,  respect 
should  be  shown.  The  old  reproach  against  mothers-in- 
law  now  rather  relegates  itself  to  old  comedy ;  it  is  not 
believed  that  they  are  always  so  detestable  as  the  **  Cam- 
paigner" in  ^^  Pendennis." 

Yet  a  mother-in-law  should  let  her  sons-in-law  severe- 
ly alone,  nor  dare,  because  she  has  a  very  near  relation- 
ship to  him,  to  interfere  in  the  household  authority,  or 
to  say  disagreeable  things  about  the  education  of  the  chil- 
dren. 

The  young  girl  who  enters  a  large  family  as  the  be- 
trothed of  one  of  the  brothers  has  a  very  difficult  role  to 
fill.  Unless  she  is  frank  and  sincere,  unless  she  is  very 
engaging,  she  is  apt  to  be  disliked  by  some  of  them.  Per- 
haps the  brother  has  been  a  great  favorite,  and  some  lov- 
ing sister  is  jealous  of  her.  Some  brother,  even,  may  feel 
offended  at  having  the  affections  of  his  most  intimate  friend 
stolen  away  from  him  ;  or  the  charms  which  have  won  the 
lover  may  not  be  apparent  to  the  rest  of  the  family. 

Now  is  the  time  for  good-breeding.  Now  is  the  moment 
for  the  amenities.  Let  the  young  people  remember  to  treat 
that  young  lady  with  peculiar  courtesy,  for  she  will  never 
forget  their  conduct  at  this  period.  She  is  to  be  their 
sister  for  all  time.  If  they  treat  her  with  respect  and  cor- 
diality, ten  to  one  she  will  be  a  good  sister.  But,  if  they 
treat  her  with  hatred,  suspicion,  and  dislike,  she  will  be 
their  enemy  all  her  days — and  very  little  blame  to  her  if 
she  is.     It  is  the  cruelty  of  the  red  Indian  to  treat  a  new- 


64  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

comer,  introduced  under  such  tender  circumstances,  with 
anything  but  kindness. 

American  marriages,  being  for  the  greater  part  purely 
marriages  of  affection,  ought  all  to  be  happy.  That  a  great 
majority  of  them  are  so  we  firmly  believe.  The  world  is, 
however,  not  yet  paradise,  and  there  is  an  occasional  fail- 
ure. A  man,  even  the  most  sagacious,  does  get  taken  in 
occasionally,  and  a  woman  now  and  then  makes  a  poor 
choice.  Then,  when  father  and  mother  read  Edmund's 
unhappiness  in  his  pale  face  and  saddened  brow,  what  are 
they  to  do  ? 

Nothing.  We  must  bear  the  sufferings  of  our  children, 
as  we  should  do  our  own,  silently,  although  they  hurt  us  in- 
finitely more  than  our  own  have  done.  And  in  that  new 
relation  we  must  bring  the  most  perfect  breeding  to  our 
aid,  trying  to  make  politeness  take  the  part  of  love.  How- 
over  much  we  may  disapprove,  we  must  bury  the  disaffec- 
tion in  our  own  breast,  and  not  wash  our  linge  sale  in 
public. 

No  one  feels  interested  in  our  failures,  in  our  quarrels, 
in  our  diseases,  or  in  our  disappointments.  We  must 
**  consume  our  own  smoke."  No  one  will  care  to  hear  that 
we  dislike  our  daughters-in-law  or  disapprove  of  our  sons' 
wives.  The  family  record  should  be  a  sealed  book,  of  which 
the  most  prudent  member  keeps  the  key.  We  have  no 
chance,  in  these  days  of  newspaper  notoriety,  to  hide  from 
the  world  what  we  do  ;  but  we  have  the  power  to  keep  our 
thoughts  to  ourselves.  Our  births,  deaths,  engagements, 
marriages,  and  visits  to  our  friends  are  all  public  property, 
but  our  opinions  are  still  our  own,  unless  we  choose  to  tell 
them. 

We  can  not  expect  of  our  daughters-in-law  and  sons-in- 
law  that  they  will  always  be  patient  with  us,  nor  can  we 
ask  it.  They  may  find  our  demands  upon  our  children 
exacting.     They  may  find  our  ways  old-fashioned  and  un- 


THE  FIRST  ENGAGEMENT.  65 

congenial ;  therefore  it  is  a  dangerous  experiment  to  take 
them  home  to  live.  Jane  may  want  a  fire  in  her  bed- 
room when  her  mother-in-law  considers  a  fire  unnecessary, 
and  damaging  to  the  new  carpet.  A  young  woman,  accus- 
tomed to  the  lavish  attendance  of  her  own  servants,  may 
enter  a  family  where  the  service  is  limited,  and  her  laces, 
carelessly  thrown  into  the  wash,  may  be  brought  back  by  a 
sad-looking  mamma,  who  assures  the  extravagant  daughter- 
in-law  that  she  keeps  "no  fine  washer  and  ironer." 

These  pin-pricks  and  small  worries  are  what  make  up 
life.  And  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  they  so  disturb  the 
harmony  of  daily  life  that  the  experiment  of  living  to- 
gether fails  utterly.  Who  can  say,  with  any  certainty, 
that  any  two  tempers  will  agree  ?  Still  less  half  a  dozen 
tempers. 

The  first  year  of  married  life  is  a  very  trying  thing.  No 
two  young  people  would  ever  wish  to  live  it  over  again. 
They  have  got  to  become  accustomed  to  each  other.  They 
must  conquer  self.  They  must  begin  to  live  dually.  It  is  a 
hard  lesson  to  learn.  "  Far  from  wondering  that  marriage 
is  sometimes  unhappy,  I  wonder  always  that  any  two 
people  can  live  together,"  said  an  English  divine,  who  has 
thoroughly  understood  human  nature. 

After  the  illusions  of  first  love  must  come  the  sober 
fact  that  all  life  is  not  to  be  passed  in  honeymoons  ;  that 
we  have  married  mortals,  not  demi-gods  or  demi-goddesses, 
and  that  the  future,  however  much  it  may  be  illuminated 
by  the  light  of  a  sincere  affection,  is  to  be  a  scene  of  per- 
petual self-sacrifice. 

The  happiness  of  marriage  depends  upon  the  very 
highest  and  most  delicate  of  reserves  ;  of  the  most  flattering 
and  careful  speech ;  of  the  best  and  most  honorable  per- 
ception ;  upon  a  kindness  greater  than  that  of  a  mother  to 
her  child  ;  and  upon  a  thousand  physical  causes.  Nobility 
of  sentiment  is  born  of  love,  and  is  the  delightful  accom- 


QQ  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

paniment  of  married  love,  even  in  the  most  low-born  brute. 
Even  Bill  Sykes  had  his  moments  of  tenderness  for  the 
poor  wretch  who  loved  him  so  well,  and  whom  he  mur- 
dered. Women  remember  these  traits,  and  forget  the  bru- 
tality. The  devotion  of  a  woman  to  a  drunkard  is  not 
remarkable,  for,  of  all  men,  drunkards  are  sure  to  have 
sensibility.  But  in  the  every-day  marriage,  between  two 
well-behaved  and  well-intentioned  persons,  the  danger  of 
losing  that  first  aroma  of  devotion  is  very  great,  for  the 
cares  of  daily  life  are  very  desiltusionee  (we  have  no  English 
for  that) ;  and  unless  people  are  desirous  to  keep  the  flame 
alight  it  soon  smolders  and  goes  out. 

So  much  for  the  happiest  marriages.  What,  then,  of 
the  unhappy  ones  ?  Where  tempers  are  wholly  incompat- 
ible, where  tastes  differ,  where  two  beings  find  that  they 
have  put  their  necks  into  a  yoke  which  galls  both  ;  when 
we  find  that  the  companion  of  a  lifetime  is  disagreeable 
to  every  feeling  and  sense,  that  we  can  not  treat  each 
other  with  justice,  because  all  our  worst  antipathies  are 
unconsciously  aroused  by  the  being  whom  once  we  loved — 
what  then  ? 

If  left  alone,  particularly  if  there  are  children,  people 
sometimes  continue  to  *^ agree  to  disagree  "  very  amiably  ; 
but  if  they  are  surrounded  by  their  relatives — never. 

What  unhappy  wife  would  not  go  at  once  to  her  father 
and  mother  and  complain  ? 

,  How  could  they  help  sympathizing  ?  And  then  the 
cord  is  broken.  The  moment  the  domestic  question  is  car- 
ried up  to  a  higher  court,  the  first  judge  retires,  and  will 
have  no  more  to  do  with  the  case.  A  man  never  forgives  this 
appeal.  No  wonder  a  man  in  such  a  case  hates  his  mother- 
in-law  ;  for,  if  he  had  been  alone  on  a  desert  island  with  his 
wife,  they  might  have  fought  it  out,  kissed,  and  become 
friends. 

So  there  is  great  reason  for  not  taking  the  young  couple 


THE  FIRST  ENGAOEMENT.  67 

home.  If  they  quarrel,  the  partisanship  of  either  side  will 
never  be  forgiven  by  the  other  side.  Matrimonial  quarrels, 
therefore,  to  be  curable  must  be  confined  to  the  high  prin- 
cipals. There  are,  of  course,  people  in  this  Avorld  great 
and  good  enough  to  live  with  others,  to  ^^ive  at  home" ; 
but  they  arc  very  few. 


XL 

A  PROFESSION  FOR  OUR  SONS. 

Chan^cellor  Kent  said,  in  his  wise  way,  that  the  citi- 
zen who  did  not  give  his  son  a  profession  or  a  trade  was 
wronging  the  state.  Every  one  must  have  something  to 
do.  The  idle  man  is  a  dangerous  man.  It  is  a  pity  that 
every  boy  can  not  learn  a  profession  and  a  trade.  In  the 
troublous  times  which  we  have  just  gone  through,  we  have 
seen  how  much  better  it  was  to  be  a  shoemaker  than  to  be 
a  lawyer.     The  professional  men  nearly  starved. 

Madame  de  Genlis  said  that  she  knew  seventy  trades,  by 
any  one  of  which  she  could  have  earned  a  living.  She 
taught  the  sons  of  Philip  ^galite  to  make  shoes,  pocket- 
books,  brooms,  brushes,  hats,  coats,  and  all  sorts  of  cabinet- 
work. She  taught  them  literature,  science,  and  music ; 
had  them  instructed  in  watch-making  and  clock-making, 
and  even  in  the  arts  of  killing  and  cutting  up  a  sheep. 
They  found  many  of  these  resources  valuable  in  exile  ;  and 
it  is  strange  that  it  has  not  occurred  to  those  who  have  boys 
who  are  not  princes  to  do  the  same.  A  boy  could  learn 
to  be  a  carpenter  while  preparing  for  college,  and  could 
study  his  Latin,  Greek,  and  mathematics  with  a  better 
brain  for  the  exercise. 

It  is  to  be  rSgretted  that  gentlemen's  sons  deem  certain 
trades  beneath  their  notice.  For  all  labor  is  honorable,  and 
all  can  not  succeed  as  lawyers,  doctors,  clergymen,  or  mer- 
chants.   There  is  great  need  of  the  handicraft  so  honorably 


A  PROFESSION  FOR  OUR  SONS.  69 

considered  in  the  middle  ages.  Every  gift  bestowed  upon 
us  by  Providence,  whether  of  mind  or  body,  is  a  talent  to  be 
grateful  for.  Arthur  can  write  verses  ;  Jack  can  cut  down  a 
tree  ;  Sam  can  reason  ;  Edmund  can  do  a  sum  ;  Peter  can 
measure  and  saw  boards ;  Henry  can  tame  animals  and 
make  all  nature  his  tributary  ;  James  likes  to  sit  and  work 
at  some  thoughtful,  sedentary  task  ;  Horatio  is  speculative, 
active,  courageous — he  aims  at  Wall  Street.  Alas  !  they 
all  aim  at  Wall  Street,  that  fairy  street  lined  with  gold. 
They  go  there,  most  of  them,  to  find  only  Peter  Gold- 
thwaite's  '^treasure,"  if,  indeed,  they  do  not  find  something 
worse. 

In  the  forming  of  character,  the  father  and  mother 
should  try  to  make  headway  against  this  national  mistake, 
that  to  rush  headlong  into  money-making  is  the  end  of 
life.  A  boy  should  be  taught  to  respect  the  day  of  small 
things  ;  to  work  honestly  for  every  dollar  he  gets  ;  and  to  let 
that  dollar  represent  something  given  back  for  the  worth 
of  it.  It  would  be  a  very  good  thing  for  all  young  Amer- 
icans if  there  were  a  law  that  they  should  enter  no  profes- 
sion or  business  until  they  had  proved  that  they  could  earn 
their  living  by  their  hands. 

Casimir  Perier  said,  when  accused  of  being  an  aristo- 
crat :  *^  My  only  aristocracy  is  the  superiority  which  indus- 
try, frugality,  perseverance,  and  intelligence  will  insure  to 
every  man  in  a  free  state  of  society  ;  and  I  belong  to  those 
privileged  classes  of  society  to  which  you  may  all  belong  in 
3'our  turn.  Our  wealth  is  our  own  ;  we  have  gained  it  by 
the  sweat  of  our  brows  or  by  the  labor  of  our  minds.  Our 
position  in  society  is  not  conferred  upon  us,  but  purchased 
by  ourselves  with  our  own  intellect,  application,  zeal  and 
knowledge,  patience  and  industry.  If  j^ou  remain  inferior 
to  us,  it  is  because  you  have  not  the  talent,  the  industry, 
the  zeal  or  the  sobriety,  the  patience  or  the  application, 
necessary  to  your  advancement.     You  wish  to  become  rich 


TO  AMENITIES  OF  HOME, 

as  some  do  to  become  wise,  but  there  is  no  royal  road  to 
wealth  any  more  than  there  is  to  knowledge." 

These  are  sentences  which  should  be  engraved  on  the 
walls  of  every  college  and  schoolhouse.  Young  men  should 
learn  to  look  to  patient  labor  as  their  lot  in  life.  The  fev- 
erish and  sudden  success  of  a  few,  wrecks  a  thousand  yearly. 

"  There  is  Charley,  who  has  made  his  pile  in  Wall  Street 
in  six  months.  Why  should  I  work  all  my  life  for  what 
he  gains  in  half  a  year  ?  "  asks  visionary  and  lazy  Fred,  not 
counting  the  thousand  failures  in  Wall  Street,  including 
failures  to  be  honest. 

There  is,  however,  a  growing  taste  for  agriculture  in 
our  country  which  is  most  hopeful.  The  earth  owes  us 
all  a  living,  and  if  we  will  'fickle  her  with  a  hoe  she  will 
laugh  with  a  harvest." 

^here  is  now  living  in  the  State  of  New  York  a  young 
farmer  who  went  from  the  ranks  of  a  fashionable  career 
right  into  the  fields.  Inheriting  a  farm  which  was  worth 
nothing  unless  he  worked  it  himself,  he  determined  to  study 
scientific  farming  at  an  agricultural  college  in  England, 
and  came  home  armed  with  useful  knowledge  and  with 
practical  ideas.  He  had  learned  to  be  a  very  good  black- 
smith, carpenter,  saddler,  and  butcher — for  a  farmer  should 
know  how  to  mend  his  farm-wagon,  stitch  his  harness,  shoe 
his  horse,  and  kill  his  calves — according  to  the  economical 
English  fashion. 

.And  he  had  great  good  luck,  this  young  farmer,  in  that 
he  found  a  wife  who,  like  himself,  had  been  reared  in  ^'^our 
best  society,"  but  who  was  willing  to  leave  all  for  his  sake, 
and  to  learn  to  pickle  and  preserve,  to  bake  and  brew,  to 
attend  to  the  dairy,  and  to  get  up  at  five  o'clock  in  the 
morning  to  give  her  working  husband  his  breakfast,  and  he 
learned  that, 

"He  who  by  the  plow  would  tlirive, 
Must  either  hold  himself  or  drive." 


A  PROFESSION  FOR   OUR  SONS.  71 

So  this  jolly  farmer  is  always  at  it,  and  drives  his  team 
afield  himself  at  daybreak. 

The  old  farmers  wonder,  as  they  see  this  handsome  young 
fellow,  beautifully  dressed,  on  Sunday,  driving  his  pretty 
wife  to  church,  that  he  can  make  more  money  than  they 
can.  His  butter  is  better,  and  brings  more  a  pound ;  his 
wheat  is  more  carefully  harvested  ;  his  breed  of  pigs  is  cele- 
brated ;  his  chickens  are  wonderful — for  the  books  tell  him 
the  best  to  buy.  He  has  learning  and  science  to  hitch  to 
his  cart,  and  they  ^'homeward  from  the  field"  bring  him 
twice  the  crop  that  ignorance  and  prejudice  draw. 

Above  all,  he  is  leading  a  happy,  healthy,  and  independ- 
ent life.  To  be  sure,  his  hands  are  hard  and  somewhat  less 
white  than  they  were.  But  polo  and  cricket  would  have 
ruined  his  hands.  His  figure  is  erect,  and  his  face  is  ruddy. 
He  has  not  lost  his  talent  in  the  elegant  drawing-room,  but 
can  still  dance  the  German  to  admiration.  He  is  doing  a 
great  work  and  setting  a  good  example  ;  for  he  is,  as  we 
Americans  say,  "making  it  pay."  To  be  sure,  he  has  a 
great  taste  for  a  farmer's  life.  No  one  should  go  into  it 
who  has  not.  But  what  a  certainty  it  is  !  Seed-time  and 
harvest  never  fail.     Wall  Street  sometimes  does. 

It  would  seem,  while  there  is  so  much  to  be  done  in 
America  with  her  railroads,  oil-wells,  mines,  farms,  and 
wheat-fields,  her  numerous  industries  and  requirements, 
that  no  man  need  be  poor.  Our  sons  can  find  something 
to  do,  something  to  turn  a  hand  to. 

The  teaching  of  home  should  be  in  this  particular  age 
of  the  world  to  inculcate  "plain  living  and  high  think- 
ing "  in  our  sons.  That  is  what  they  need  to  be  great  and 
good  men,  and  useful  citizens. 


XII. 

PROFESSIONS  FOR  WOMEN^. 

If  the  commercial  distress  wliicli  visited  this  country 
between  the  years  of  1873  and  1879  had  brought  us  no 
other  benefit,  amid  the  vast  deal  of  suffering  and  ruin 
which  occurred  to  a  people  who  had  been  living  too  fast,  it 
did  this  immense  good  :  it  taught  women  that  they  could 
work  and  could  earn  money.  It  has  been  no  uncommon 
thing  for  the  wife  and  the  sister  to  support  the  family  dur- 
ing those  dreadful  years,  now  happily  past. 

Men  are  broken  and  discouraged  when  the  ordinary 
business  of  their  lives  fails  them.  They  have  not  the  ver- 
satility of  women,  they  have  not  woman's  hope.  It  prob- 
ably seemed  to  many  a  ruined  father  that  there  was  little 
hope  in  the  accomplishments  of  his  daughter.  She  could 
paint  a  plaque  very  prettily,  perhaps  write  tolerable  poetry  ; 
"but  that  would  not  pay  the  butcher."  The  fact  remains 
that  it  did  pay  the  butcher.  One  delicate  woman  during 
these  dreadful  years  has  supported  seven  men — seven  dis- 
couraged, ruined,  idle  men,  and  she  has  done  it  very  well 
too. 

The  Decorative  Art  Society  could  tell  a  very  good  story 
of  w^oman's  work,  and  the  sister  societies  for  the  aid  of 
women  have  a  noble  record  on  their  books.  Wood-carving, 
embroidery  of  a  very  high  class,  drawing,  painting,  music- 
teaching,  authorship,  engraving  on  wood  and  modeling,  are 
all  now  well  and  profitably  done  by  women.     To  be  report- 


PROFESSIONS  FOR    WOMEK  Y3 

ers  for  newspapers,  law  reporters  in  the  courts,  and  even 
lawyers  and  doctors  are  also  added  on. 

The  training-schools  for  nurses  have  opened  a  new  and 
beneficent  field  for  the  cultivated,  conscientious  girl,  who 
is  willing  to  devote  herself  to  the  care  of  the  sick.  She  can 
now  do  her  work  under  a  certain  direction  and  law  and 
authority  which  give  it  dignity.  To  be  an  artist,  and  a 
successful  one,  is  a  career  which  is  opening  more  and  more 
to  women.  To  paint,  to  illustrate  books,  to  give  fresh 
ideas  to  the  world  with  her  brush,  is  a  noble  career  for  any 
young  woman.  It  requires  talent,  patience,  enormous  in- 
dustry, and  some  courage,  to  endure  jealous  criticism. 

The  quarrel  in  Edinburgh  respecting  the  female  doctors 
and  the  opposition  everywhere  to  the  entrance  of  women 
upon  men's  chosen  fields  are  fresh  enough  in  the  memory 
of  our  readers.     We  need  not  enter  upon  this  subject  here. 

Women  of  heroic  force  have  great  difficulty  in  finding 
their  places  in  the  world.  They  are  too  active,  too  full  of 
the  unrest  of  genius,  to  be  always  happy  at  home  ;  the  great 
woman  is,  when  young,  like  the  ugly  duckling.  She  does 
not  please  her  mother  or  gratify  her  sisters.  She  does  not 
like  to  go  to  parties — society  bores  her.  She  may  not  be 
pretty  ;  if  she  is,  she  does  not  care  for  compliments.  If  a 
great  philanthropist,  like  Florence  Nightingale  or  Sister 
Dora,  is  being  developed  for  the  use  of  the  world,  ten  to 
one  this  particular  bird  is  too  large  for  the  nest,  and  dis- 
comfits all  the  rest. 

A  woman  of  literary  gifts,  like  Miss  Martineau,  who  is 
being  brought  up  to  plain  sewing,  and  who  has  to  come  to 
her  real  work  through  much  family  strife  and  contention, 
is  no  doubt  very  disagreeable  and  troublesome  to  those  who 
have  no  strivings,  no  immortal  fire  to  take  care  of.  Such 
women  generally  leave  a  record  of  much  suffering,  of  early 
injustice,  of  the  unkindness  of  relatives,  behind  them,  and 
claim  that,  had  they  been  treated  better  and  better  under- 
7 


74:  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

stood,  they  would  have  been  finer  characters  and  more  use- 
ful to  their  day  and  generation. 

There  is  no  doubt  of  the  fact  that  a  narrow-minded 
mother  has  often  ruined  the  development  and  the  useful- 
ness of  her  gifted  daughter.  She  least  of  all  comprehends 
the  child  who,  though  her  very  own,  has  all  the  qualities 
of  another  race.  It  once  gave  a  very  good  mother  the  most 
acute  pain  because  her  daughter  threw  an  apple-paring 
into  the  fire  exactly  like  her  aunt  Clarissa.  '^AVhat  do 
you  want  to  do  that  for,  exactly  like  your  aunt  ?  "  was  the 
angry  question.  Aunt  Clarissa  was  the  father's  sister,  and 
particularly  disagreeable  to  the  mother.  It  was  a  perfectly 
honest  and  irresistible  disgust.  We  can  imagine  how  much 
more  powerful  it  would  be  if  carried  beyond  apple-parings. 

A  young  artist  in  Paris,  who  made  a  good  living  for  her 
mother  and  sister,  declared  with  tears  that  she  had  never 
been  forgiven  by  either  of  them  for  deserting  her  sewing- 
machine  for  the  palette,  and  it  was  evident  that  she  was 
not  clear  in  her  own  mind  as  to  whether  she  had  not  dis- 
graced herself. 

These  are  instances  of  narrowness  happily  conspicuous, 
and  we  hope  few.  But  should  not  parents  deeply  consider 
them,  and  ask  themselves  if  they  have  a  right  to  interfere 
with  the  chosen  vocation  of  a  daughter,  even  if  it  does 
seem  to  them  to  be  eccentric  ?  We  know  a  mother,  who 
aimed  at  social  distinction  and  a  rich  marriage  for  her 
daughter,  who  was  so  disgusted  with  her  for  choosing  to 
become  a  doctor  that  she  fell  ill,  and  w^ould  not  allow  her 
to  care  for  or  nurse  her. 

"  Perhaps  you  had  better  try  homoeopathy,  and  take  the 
cause  of  your  disease  as  your  cure,"  said  her  family  physi- 
cian. 

"No,  never.  I  would  rather  die  than  be  cured  by 
Helen,"  said  the  offended  mother. 

She  lived  to  forgive  Helen,  who  now  supports  her,  and 


PROFESSIONS  FOR    WOMEN.  Y5 

she  is  in  excellent  health  and  spirits  at  sixty-five.  Probably 
Helen  therefore  knew  best  what  was  good  for  her. 

But  it  is  an  unlucky  thing  for  the  amenities  of  home 
when  tlie  daughters  are  so  strongly  disposed  to  leave  the 
ordinary  walks  of  every-day  feminine  duty.  The  happiest 
women  are  those  who  can  lead  the  ordinary  life,  be  amused 
by  society,  dress,  and  conventionalities,  and  who  can  be 
early  married  to  the  man  of  their  choice,  and  become  in 
their  turn  domestic  women,  good  wives,  and  mothers. 
There  is  no  other  work,  no  matter  how  distinguished, 
which  equals  this.  But,  if  this  life  does  not  come  to  a 
woman,  and  certainly  it  does  not  to  a  very  large  number, 
there  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  propriety  of  a  woman's  finding 
her  own  sphere,  her  own  work,  and  her  happiest  and  most 
energetic  usefulness. 

Anything  can  be  forgiven  of  a  woman  except  a  career 
of  vice  or  vanity,  or  the  wretched  numbness  of  inaction. 
No  woman  should  insult  her  Maker  by  supposing  that  he 
made  a  mistake  in  making  her.  A  morbid  or  a  useless 
woman  was  not  contemplated  in  the  great  plan  of  the  uni- 
verse. She  has  always  a  sphere.  If  home  is  unhappy  be- 
yond her  power  of  endurance,  let  her 

"  Go  teach  the  orphan  boy  to  read, 
The  orphan  girl  to  sew." 

Let  her  learn  to  cook,  bake,  brew  ;  let  her  adopt  a  pro- 
fession— music,  possibly — and  work  at  it.  Let  her  go  into 
a  lady's  school  and  teach.  Let  her  keep  a  boarding-house, 
paper  walls,  hang  pictures,  embroider,  dust,  sweep,  become 
the  manager  of  a  business,  do  anything  but  sit  down  and 
mope  and  wait  for  something  to  turn  up.  Many  a  pair  of 
unhappy  old  maids  are  now  dragging  out  a  miserable  exist- 
ence in  a  second-class  boarding-house,  turning  their  poor 
little  bits  of  finery,  who  might,  if  they  had  been  brave  in 
their  youth,  have  won  a  large  rei^crtoire  of  thought  and  a 


76  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

comfortable  competency.  But  they  preferred  to  keep  alive 
one  little  corner  of  pride,  and  that  has  been  but  a  poor  fire 
to  sit  by  to  warm  their  thin  hands — hands  which  should 
not  have  been  ashamed  to  work,  hands  which  would  have 
been  whiter  for  honest  effort. 

The  prejudice  against  literary  women  has  so  much  dis- 
c.ppeared  that  it  requires  no  word  of  encouragement  now  to 
women  to  try  literature  as  a  means  of  getting  a  living.  In- 
deed, so  many  more  try  writing  than  have  the  gift  for  it 
that  it  would  perhaps  be  wise  to  recommend  a  great  many 
to  try  anything  rather  than  that. 

To  write  well  must  be  in  the  first  place  a  gift :  all  have 
it  not.  To  be  sure,  it  also  requires  will,  persistency,  and 
the  most  enormous  industry.  No  one  ever  wrote  well  who 
had  not  gone  through  many  an  hour  of  pain,  disgust  at  the 
work,  and  a  crucial  test  of  the  hard  labor  that  is  to  bring 
from  the  brain  its  purest  gold.  But  even  the  industrious 
can  not  always  write  ;  and  if  a  woman  does  not  write  well 
she  generally  writes  very  poorly.  She  can  not  do  machine 
work  as  well  as  a  man  can.  Therefore,  if  she  have  no  in- 
spiration, she  had  better  throw  down  the  pen. 

Women,  by  reason  of  their  health,  are  sometimes  de- 
barred from  taking  up  any  very  exacting  out-of-door  work. 
This  was,  in  the  opinion  of  an  Edinburgh  surgeon  (the  par- 
ticular enemy  of  Miss  Jex  Blake),  an  unanswerable  argu- 
ment against  their  becoming  physicians  and  surgeons.  The 
fact  remains  that  they  have  become  both.  Therefore,  we 
can  never  say  what  a  woman  can  not  do. 

But  we  could  hardly  train  our  daughters  to  be  car  con- 
ductors, soldiers,  or  poHce-officers,  the  three  trades  which 
are  always  thrown  in  the  face  of  woman  suffragists. 

It  remains  to  be  seen  why  they  should  not  play  in 
orchestras,  become  jewelers  and  watch-makers,  wood- 
carvers,  and  internal  decorators,  that  branch  of  household 
art  now  so  fashionable  and  so  profitable.     For,  with  sixty 


PROFESSIONS  FOR   WOMEN.  77 

thousand  unmarried  women  over  and  above  the  male  popu- 
lation in  Massachusetts  alone,  we  have  evidently  got  to  do 
something  for  them. 

One  energetic  woman  in  France  has  made  a  large  fort- 
une by  raising  hens  and  chickens.  Another  in  the  West  is 
a  good  practical  farmer,  taking  care  of  ten  thousand  acres, 
and  making  money  surely  and  rapidly.  It  will  repay  all 
women  to  inquire  what  were  Madame  de  Genlis's  seventy 
trades,  and  which  one,  or  two,  she  will  learn. 

There  is  another  reason  for  learning  a  trade  or  an  ac- 
complishment, and  that  is  for  the  pleasure  which  it  gives 
to  an  otherwise  idle  lady.  Many  a  woman,  after  her  chil- 
dren are  married,  finds  herself  with  days  to  get  rid  of 
which  have  no  possible  pleasure  in  them.  Her  occupation 
is  gone,  and  she  needs  the  help  of  something  to  carry  off 
weary,  unprofitable  hours.  She  generally,  in  these  days, 
takes  to  paintmg  plaques  and  plates,  fans  and  reticules — 
which  is  very  good  as  long  as  it  lasts.  It  does  not  last  very 
long  to  a  woman  of  active  mind.  She  needs  to  throw  in 
charities  and  outside  action,  to  organize  ncAV  schemes,  and 
to  help  along  church  and  school.  To  unmask  abuses,  to 
do  that  work  in  a  great  city  which  otherwise  goes  undone  ; 
this  is  the  part  of  a  good  woman's  work  which  may  amply 
repay  an  hour's  thought. 

The  scheme  for  Protestant  sisterhoods,  which  is  looked 
upon  with  alarm  by  many  most  thoughtful  people,  as  open- 
ing a  door  for  that  purposeless  conventual  seclusion  and 
life  of  imprisonment  and  ritualistic  mummery  in  which 
we  Protestants  do  not  believe,  has  grown  out  of  the  neces- 
sity which  unmarried  women  feel  for  a  vocation. 

There  can  be  no  harm  in  the  institution  of  Protestant 
sisterhoods  so  long  as  the  sisters  take  no  positive  vow.  It 
will  not  hurt  women  to  enter  a  religious  house,  work  under  a 
lady  superior  in  instructing  the  ignorant,  raising  the  fallen, 
helping  the  poor,  so  long  as  they  do  not  lock  the  door  on 


78  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

themselves  and  give  the  key  into  another  hand.  There  is 
no  one  Avho  can  be  trusted  with  the  custody  of  our  liberty 
but  ourselves.  A  clergyman  may  be  a  very  good  man,  but 
he  is  still  simply  a  fallible  man  ;  and  he  may  mistake  very 
much  his  duty  when  a  Protestant  sister  tells  him  that  she 
desires  to  leave  her  work  if  he  tells  her  that  she  can  not. 
She  may  know  very  much  l^etter  than  he.  It  is  all  very 
well  to  bind  one's  self  to  a  good  work  for  a  year  or  two  years, 
that  there  may  be  consistency  in  the  enterprise  ;  but  a 
longer  or  a  final  term  is  not  consistent  with  that  freedom 
which  God  has  given  us. 


XIII. 

THE  INFLUENCE  OF  AGED  PEOPLE. 

There  is  no  geyire  picture  so  ornamental  to  the  fireside 
as  an  old  lady  with  gray  curls.  Home  should  always  con- 
tain a  grandmother,  old  aunt,  or  some  relative  who  has  seen 
the  world/lived  her  life,  and  who  is  now  waiting  gently 
for  the  news  which  came  to  Christiana  in  the  *^  Pilgrim's 
Progress,"  meantime  taking  a  pleasant  interest  in  the  lit- 
tle tragedy  or  comedy  of  every-day  life,  and  being  the  par- 
ticular providence  of  the  younger  children.  Such  an  old 
lady  is  as  agreeable  as  she  is  ornamental.  So  important  is 
the  respectability  of  a  virtuous  ancestor  to  the  nouveau 
riclie,  that  Dickens  says,  in  his  immortal  way,  of  the  Veneer- 
ings,  **  that,  if  they  had  wanted  a  grandfather,  they  would 
have  ordered  him  fresh  from  Fortnum's  and  Mason's.  He 
would  have  come  round  with  the  pickles." 

A  grandfather  is  a  very  useful  article,  whether  to  quote 
from  or  to  enjoy  daily.  An  agreeable  old  man  is  the  most 
delightful  acquisition  to  any  society.  It  is,  perhaps,  one 
reason  why  the  English  dinner-table  is  so  preeminently 
agreeable,  that  old  men  keep  themselves  so  very  fresh, 
healthy,  youthful  in  feeling,  while  they  are,  of  course,  full 
of  the  results  of  experience.  A  man  in  England  at  sixty- 
five  has  not  allowed  himself  to  grow  careless  of  dress  or  ap- 
pearance. He  is  not  sunk  in  the  apathy  or  preoccupation 
of  old  age,  even  at  eighty.  To  keep  himself  au  courant 
with  the  excitements  of  the  hour  has  been  his  rule  through 


80  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

life.  We  who  live  must  live  every  hour.  We  must  culti- 
vate those  who  are  younger  as  a  weary  traveler  stoops  to 
drink  of  the  fresh  spring  which  bubbles  up  at  his  feet.  "  It 
will  not  do  for  us  to  seal  up  in  a  bottle  the  wine  which  was 
good  when  we  were  young,  and  drink  only  that ;  we 
must  go  ever  to  the  fresher  vineyards.  It  is  not  given  to 
us  all  to  remember  a  kindly  grandfather  ;  but,  to  those  who 
can  do  so,  it  is  the  most  agreeable  perhaps  of  childhood's 
memories. 

The  lovely  old  lady  is  a  great  treasure  in  a  household, 
has  often  agreeable  accomplishments  in  the  way  of  needle- 
work and  knitting,  has  a  perfect  store  of  excellent  recipes 
for  cakes  and  custards,  and  knows  the  most  delightful  old- 
fashioned  games  of  cards.  She  has  manners,  too,  learned 
in  a  better  school  than  ours.  She  is  stately,  courteous,  a 
little  formal.  She  makes  a  beautiful  courtesy.  She  tells 
us  how  she  was  taught  to  do  *'  laid  work,"  to  sew  furs,  to 
conserve  currants,  to  sit  up  and  not  touch  the  back  of  her 
chair.  Her  figure  shows  that  a  good  spine  is  the  result 
of  her  early  training.  She  is  the  one  who  is  never  tired  of 
the  society  of  the  growing  girls,  and  who  has  at  twilight 
the  prettiest  stories  of  the  time  when  slie  was  a  young  lady 
and  -Grandpapa  came  a-courting.  It  seems,  seen  through 
the  tender  light  of  tradition,  as  if  those  were  more  roman- 
tic days  than  ours.  Ko  doubt  she  has  treasures  of  old  lace 
and  brocade,  which  come  out  for  dolls'  dresses  and  pin- 
cushions. She  is  very  apt  at  Christmas-tide  to  produce  un- 
expected treasures.^  To  comfort  and  encourage  the  falter- 
mg,  fainting  mother  when  the  new  cares  of  maternity  seem 
almost  beyond  her  strength,  who  so  invaluable  as  the  old 
lady  ?  To  soothe  the  boys  and  girls  when  the  business  of 
life  has  removed  for  a  moment  their  immediate  guardian, 
who  so  nice  as  Grandmamma  ? 

For  young  fathers  and  mothers  have  their  own  lives  to 
live.     They  must  be  excused  if  they  wish  to  go  to  dinners. 


THE  INFLUENCE  OF  AGED  PEOPLE.  81 

and  parties,  and  to  Europe  without  the  children.  Indeed, 
while  the  husband  is  making  the  fortune,  and  the  wife  is 
keeping  house,  and  living  out  the  business  of  youth,  it 
sometimes  seems  a  pity  that  the  bearing  of  children  should 
be  thrown  in.  An  English  economist  gravely  proposed  that 
children  should  be  born  to  the  old,  who  have  gotten  through 
with  wishing  to  live,  and  who  would  be  very  much  amused 
with  the  business  of  the  nursery,  all  other  business  having 
ceased  to  amuse  them. 

Young  people  have  a  deal  else  to  amuse  them,  no  doubt, 
and  a  family  of  children  often  seems  a  great  bother  to 
them  ;  but  the  fact  remains  that  they  are  ordained  to  cope 
with  this  particular  business,  and  they  alone  have  the 
strength  to  bear  with  the  ceaseless  activity  of  childhood. 
Children  after  a  time  fatigue  the  old. 

The  other  side  of  the  picture  is  this,  also.  Old  people 
are  not  always  agreeable,  particularly  old  men,  in  a  house- 
hold. Grandpapa  may  be  very  gouty  and  very  cross,  very 
unreasonable  in  his  requirements,  and  uncertain  as  to  his 
hours.  He  may  rap  an  unwary  urchin  over  the  head  before 
he  knows  it  with  his  cane,  and  come  down  severely  on  the 
subject  of  the  girls'  new  dresses.  If  Grandpapa  holds  the 
purse-strings,  he  is  a  terrible  power.  It  is  not  often,  how- 
ever, that  rich  old  men  are  disobeyed  or  neglected.  Human 
selfishness  is  too  wary. 

Old  men  generally  are  not  so  agreeable  in  a  household 
as  old  women.  They  are  caged  lions,  if  disease  has  crip- 
pled them  ;  they  torment  themselves  and  those  with  whom 
they  live  ;  they  feel  the  deprivation  of  that  power  and  that 
importance  which  once  made  up  their  lives.  They  have 
never,  perhaps,  cultivated  the  domestic  virtues. 

So  much  the  better  for  the  amenities  of  home  if  the 
household  bear  all  this  with  patience,  and  all  try  to  re- 
member all  that  Grandpapa  did  for  them  when  he  was 
young  and  strong.     No  matter  what  are  the  disagreeable 


82  AMEmriES  OF  HOME. 

traits  of  the  old,  we  must  bear  them  upon  our  young  and 
strong  backs.  It  is  one  of  the  privileges  of  home  that  we 
can  do  this  duty,  and  help  old  age  to  bear  its  sorrows.  How 
manifold  are  those  evils — the  loss  of  sight,  the  loss  of  hear- 
ing, the  aggravation  of  the  nerves,  the  rheumatic  pains  ! 

Dr.  Johnson,  in  the  **  Rambler,"  says  :  *'  A  Greek  epi- 
grammatist, intending  to  show  the  miseries  that  attend  the 
last  stage  of  man,  imprecates  upon  those  who  are  so  foolish 
as  to  wish  for  long  life  the  calamity  of  continuing  to  grow 
old  from  century  to  century.  He  thought  that  no  adven- 
titious or  foreign  pain  was  requisite,  that  decrepitude  itself 
was  an  epitome  of  whatever  is  dreadful,  and  nothing  could 
be  added  to  the  curse  of  age  but  that  it  should  be  extended 
beyond  its  proper  limits." 

"  It  would  be  well,"  says  Col  ton,  ^'  if  old  age  diminished 
our  perceptibilities  to  pain  in  the  same  proportion  that  it 
does  our  sensibilities  to  pleasure,  and,  if  life  has  been  termed 
a  feast,  those  favored  few  are  the  most  fortunate  guests  who 
are  not  compelled  to  sit  at  the  table  when  they  can  no 
longer  partake  of  the  banquet.  But  the  misfortune  is  that 
body  and  mind,  like  man  and  wife,  do  not  always  agree  to 
die  together.  It  is  bad  when  the  mind  survives  the  body, 
and  worse  still  when  the  body  survives  the  mind  ;  but  when 
both  these  survive  our  spirits,  our  hopes,  and  our  health, 
this  is  worst  of  all." 

Many  old  people  who  come  upon  their  middle-aged 
children  for  support  and  consolation  have  reached  the  lat- 
ter condition.  And  no  doubt  they  are  a  very  heavy  burden. 
Many  an  ill-tempered  old  person  has  ruined  the  life  of  a  de- 
voted son  or  daughter.  But  the  duty  remains.  It  is  one 
which  must  not  be  shirked,  even  if  it  descends  to  a  grand- 
daughter.    Little  Nell  did  her  duty,  and  only  her  duty. 

It  has  remained  for  Dickens  to  depict,  as  only  he  can, 
the  burden  of  unjust  and  wicked  parents  upon  virtuous 
children.     Indeed,  he  has  been  blamed  for  grinding  up  his 


THE  INFLUENCE  OF  AGED  PEOPLE,  83 

own  father  for  paint,  and  therefrom  constructing  the  char- 
acters of  Turveydrop,  Mr.  Dorrit,  and  Mr.  Micawber.  One 
can  but  feel  regret  that  a  youth  such  as  Dickens  passed  had 
eradicated  much  that  was  delicate  and  desirable  in  the  way 
of  reticence.  Yet  the  world  needed  the  lesson.  There  are 
depths  in  the  heart  of  man  which  can  only  be  reached  by 
such  revelations  :  and  we  can  but  hope  that  some  thorough- 
ly selfish  and  unworthy  parents  have  read  and  profited  by 
these  lessons ;  that  a  Turveydrop  may  have  seen  himself, 
and  have  ceased  to  live  on  his  children ;  that  a  Dorrit  may 
have  been  ashamed  of  his  pretense  and  turgidity ;  a  Micaw- 
ber, more  lovable  than  the  others,  have  been  aroused  from 
his  worthless  dreams! 

Severity  and  censoriousness  in  the  old  alienate  youthful 
affections,  and  the  old  should  constantly  bear  in  mind  that, 
if  they  would  keep  the  affections  of  their  descendants,  they 
must  cultivate  amiability.  As  Dr.  Johnson  says,  to  again 
quote  his  wise  words:  '•'■  There  are  many  who  live  merely  to 
hinder  happiness,  and  whose  descendants  can  only  tell  of 
long  life,  that  it  produces  suspicion,  malignity,  peevishness, 
and  persecution ;  and  yet  even  these  tyrants  can  talk  of 
the  ingratitude  of  the  age,  curse  their  heirs  for  impatience, 
and  wonder  that  young  men  can  not  take  pleasure  in  their 
father's  company. 

"  He  that  would  pass  the  latter  part  of  life  with  honor 
and  decency  must,  when  he  is  young,  consider  that  he  shall 
one  day  be  old,  and  remember,  when  he  is  old,  that  he  has 
once  been  young.  In  youth  he  must  lay  up  knowledge  for 
his  support  when  his  powers  of  acting  shall  forsake  him  ; 
and  m  age  forbear  to  animadvert  with  vigor  on  faults  which 
experience  only  can  correct." 

Those  who  are  endeavoring  to  make  home  happy,  and 
who  are  baffled  by  the  peevishness  of  an  old  person,  must 
try  to  strengthen  themselves  in  the  good  work  by  every  ar- 
gument in  favor  of  old  age,  making  every  excuse  for  it ; 


84  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

and,  if  all  other  arguments  fail,  must  constantly  say  to  them- 
selves, "  I  shall  one  day  be  old  ;  let  me  treat  my  aged  rela- 
tives as  I  hope  that  my  children  may  treat  me." 

Home  should  indeed  be  a  ^^  blessed  provision  "  for  the 
aged.  \Yhether  they  are  those  healthy,  agreeable  old  people 
who  have  laughed  at  time,  those  whose  unique  privilege  it 
has  been  to  stand  erect  under  the  burden  of  eighty  years,  or 
those  whom  time  and  circumstance  have  crippled  and  cast 
down,  home  is  their  place,  and  it  should  not  be  in  our  hearts 
to  consider  them  as  a  burden. 


XIV. 

THE  CAPABILITIES  OF  HOME  EDUCATIOK 

"  The  methods  of  education  should  be  such  as  to  guide 
and  balance  the  tendencies  of  human  nature,  rather  than  to 
subvert  them." 

Mothers  must  all  agree  that  the  best  part  of  education 
is  that  which  children  give  themselves  in  a  happy,  healthy, 
not  too  formal  home.  The  education  of  a  child  is  princi- 
pally derived  from  its  own  observation  of  the  actions,  the 
words,  the  looks,  of  those  among  whom  it  lives.  The  ob- 
servation of  children  is  keen  and  incessant.  They  are  al- 
ways drawing  their  own  conclusions.  These  observations 
and  conclusions  have  a  powerful  influence  in  forming  the 
character  of  youth.  What  you  tell  them  they  are  very  apt 
to  receive  with  suspicion.     Seeing  is  believing. 

"  How  do  you  know  that  that  is  ^  ?  "  said  a  rather  ir- 
reverent pupil  to  his  teacher. 

"  Why,  because  I  was  taught  so  ! " 

"  Well,  who  taught  you  ?  "  returned  Johnny. 

"My  teacher,  a  very  good  old  man,"  said  the  poor 
schoolmistress,  pointing  to  the  first  letter  of  the  alphabet. 

"  Well,  now,  how  do  you  know  but  that  old  man  lied?" 
returned  the  imperturbable  John. 

The  teacher  was  nonplussed.  At  last  she  thought  of  a 
happy  way  out  of  her  difficulties. 

"You  watch  the  other  boys,  Johnny,  and  see  if  they 
think  it  is  A  ;  if  they  do  not,  you  may  believe  that  it  is  -5." 


86  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

The  great  letter  proved  to  be  A  to  John's  satisfaction, 
after  he  had  taught  himself  that  it  was  likely  to  be  it.  A 
matter  of  self-acquisition,  treasured  up  and  reasoned  upon, 
with  collateral  testimony  brought  to  bear,  which  grew 
stronger  as  Johnny  advanced  in  literature,  made  A  to  John- 
ny a  fact.  It  was  no  fiction  of  learning  which  his  natural 
enemies  were  forcing  upon  him  ;  but,  his  native  shrewdness 
having  found  them  out  to  be  correct  on  this  one  important 
fact,  he  believed  them  in  future,  and  accepted  B  and  0  as 
parts  of  a  system,  occult  and  difficult  to  remember,  but 
still  as  facts. 

We  must  remember,  when  in  the  first  youthful  ardor  of 
our  systems  and  schemes  of  education,  that  costly  apparatus 
and  splendid  cabinets  have  no  power  to  make  scholars.  The 
little  scholar  says  to  his  teacher,  "  Will  you  tell  me  what 
time  it  is  ?"  as  he  looks  at  the  clock.  *'No,"  she  should 
say  ;  "  I  want  you  to  tell  me  what  time  it  is." 

In  a  half  hour  the  most  slow  and  unimpressionable  boy 
can  learn  to  tell  time,  and  so  on.  His  books  and  teachers 
must  be  lys  helpers,  but  the  work  must  be  his.  As  Daniel 
Webster  said:  *^A  man  is  not  educated  until  he  has  the 
ability  to  summon  in  an  emergency  his  mental  powers  in 
vigorous  exercise  to  effect  its  proposed  object.  It  is  not  the 
man  who  has  read  the  most  or  seen  the  most  who  can  do 
this ;  such  a  one  is  in  danger  of  being  borne  down  like  a 
beast  of  burden  by  an  overloaded  mass  of  other  men's 
thoughts.  T^or  is  it  the  man  who  can  boast  merely  of  na- 
tive vigor  and  capacity.  The  greatest  of  all  warriors  who 
went  to  the  siege  of  Troy  had  not  the  preeminence  because 
Nature  had  given  him  strength,  and  he  carried  the  longest 
bow,  but  because  self -discipline  had  taught  him  how  to 
bend  it." 

It  is  this  power  of  raising  a  boy's  mind  to  the  ability  to 
work  for  itself  which  is  the  highest  achievement  of  educa- 
tion, and  mothers  are  sometimes  inspired  with  it. 


THE  CAPABILITIES  OF  HOME  EDUCATION.      87 

And,  as  curiosity  is  the  first  feeler  which  the  youthful 
brain  puts  out,  the  mother  should  be  very  patient  in  an- 
swering questions.  This  is,  perhaps,  the  hardest  trial  which 
a  mother  has  to  meet.  To  answer  the  questions  of  a  tireless 
crowd  of  children  is  enough  to  drive  a  nervous  woman  in- 
sane. But,  as  long  as  her  strength  lasts,  she  must  try  to  do 
it,  and  as  long  as  she  knows  what  to  say.  "When  they  begin 
with  those  unanswerable  questions  upon  theology  which 
they  always  ask,  and  which  she  can  no  more  answer  than 
they  can,  then  she  must  stop. 

"Mamma!  why  did  God  make  the  devil  if  he  didn't^ 
want  any  evil  in  the  world  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know,  my  dear  ;  you  must  ask  your  father," 
has  been  said  to  be  the  most  powerful  lecture  upon  woman's 
cunning  and  man's  limitations  which  was  ever  preached. 

Curiosity  being  once  excited,  the  field  is  plowed,  and 
the  seeds  of  learning  can  be  dropped  in.  Unhappily  for  the 
poor  boy,  he  has  got  to  learn  many  things  by  rote — the 
multiplication  table,  the  spelling-book,  the  Latin  grammar; 
he  must  be  taught  that  dreary  gi'ind  which  we  cd^\  formula, 
in  order  that  he  may  have  a  mental  tape-measure  to  go  by 
hereafter. 

But  just  as  little  should  be  taught  by  rote  as  possible, 
especially  what  the  child  does  not  understand.  It  cripples 
the  mind,  while  it  helps  the  memory.  Original  thinkers 
have  never  been  able  to  learn  much  by  rote. 

We  must  remember  that  education  is  like  the  grafting 
process,  and  there  must  be  some  affinity  between  the  stock 
and  the  graft  if  we  wish  to  get  good  fruit.  Even  if  it  were 
desirable,  it  is  very  poor  work  to  try  to  obliterate  natural 
tendencies,  and  make  the  tree  grow  artificially.  We  want, 
while  we  are  grafting  our  young  tree,  and  cutting  off  the 
unnecessary  shoots,  to  preserve  the  fine  original  flavor  of 
the  fruit  which  God  gave  it,  which  we  did  not  make,  and 
can  only  help  it  to  mature  and  ripen ;  fortunate  if,  in 


88  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

our  blundering  ignorance,  we  do  not  injure  rather  than 
improve  it. 

We  should  teach  our  children  to  communicate  to  us 
their  thoughts  and  inclinations  with  perfect  freedom,  so 
that  we  can  guess  what  their  minds  are  leading  to.  We 
can  thus  help  them  on  their  favorite  road  toward  any  art  or 
science  to  which  their  talents  tend.  AVe  have  to  contend 
morally  with  the  habitual  reticence  of  childhood ;  but  intel- 
lectually, if  not  repressed  or  frightened,  childhood  is  frank. 

In  teaching  anything,  as  little  as  possible  should  be 
taught  a  child  at  once.  No  wise  mother  gives  her  child  a 
half-dozen  dishes  to  eat  at  once.  She  respects  his  stomach. 
Why  not  have  the  same  regard  for  his  brain  ? 

In  this,  we  are  making  the  mother  the  teacher.  We  are 
speaking  of  the  capabilities  of  home,  which  is  to  be  opposed 
to  the  very  injudicious  tendencies  of  the  average  school, 
an  institution  in  which  most  mothers  who  look  back  upon 
ian  extended  experience  usually  unite  in  decrying.  Even 
Dr.  Arnold,  of  Rugby,  who  was  the  model  school-master, 
says,  *' A  great  school  is  very  trying.  It  never  can  present 
images  o'f  rest  and  peace ;  and  when  the  spring  and  activity 
of  youth  are  altogether  unsanctified  by  anything  pure  and 
elevated  in  its  desires,  it  becomes  a  spectacle  that  is  dizzy- 
ing, and  almost  more  morally  distressing  than  the  shouts 
and  gambols  of  a  set  of  lunatics." 

The  trouble  with  many  of  our  schools  is  simply  this  : 
they  are  money-making  institutions  only.  Hard  teachers, 
bad  air,  and  the  forcing  system,  so  that  the  master  may 
have  a  showy  examination,  that  is  all.  Oh  !  what  distorted 
spines,  what  fevers,  what  curious  diseases,  what  wrath, 
what  confusion,  what  despair,  have  not  been  born  in  a  fash- 
ionable school !  It  is  dreadful  to  think  of  the  tasks  which 
are  imposed.  And  yet  it  is  not  within  the  capabilities  of 
home  to  do  without  a  school  training,  especially  for  boys. 
They  must  go  to  encounter  the  hard  lessons  which  are  to 


THE  CAPABILITIES  OF  HOME  EDUCATION.      89 

prepare  them  for  life.  To  learn  their  kind,  to  get  rid  of 
morbidity,  school  is  nece.ssary. 

It  is  fortunately  within  the  capabilities  of  home  to 
smooth  the  path  of  the  suffering  boy  or  girl  who  has  to  know 
everything. 

"The  school-boy  knows  the  exact  distance  to  an  inch 
from  the  moon  to  Uranus,"  says  Dickens,  who  had  the 
liveliest  horror  of  a  school,  and  the  most  active  sympathy 
with  school-boys.  "  The  school-boy  knows  every  conceivable 
quotation  from  the  Greek  and  Latin  authors.  The  school- 
boy is  up  at  present,  and  has  been  these  two  years,  in  the 
remotest  corners  of  the  maps  of  Russia  and  Turkey,  previ- 
ously to  which  display  of  his  geographical  accomplishments 
he  had  been  on  the  most  intimate  terms  with  the  whole  of 
the  gold  regions  of  Australia.  If  there  were  a  run  against 
the  monetary  system  of  this  great  country  to-morrow,  we 
should  find  this  prodigy  of  a  school-boy  down  upon  us  witli 
the  deepest  mystery  of  banking  and  the  currency. " 

It  is  this  cramming  system,  this  illy  digested  and  cruel 
quantity,  which  is  killing  our  boys,  disgusting  them  with 
the  word  learning ,  and  which  turns  our  colleges  into  loung- 
ing-places  for  the  lazy,  where  clubs  are  formed,  and  where 
a  "  dig  "  is  looked  down  upon  as  a  low  fellow.  It  is  against 
this  false  system  tliat  all  the  powers  of  home  should  be 
arrayed. 

We  fear  that  the  teachers  of  girls  are  very  seldom  guided 
by  any  definite  principles  in  educating  the  feelings  and  the 
intellect  of  their  pupils.  The  power  of  self-control  is  not 
sufficiently  dwelt  upon  ;  the  power  of  reflection,  of  looking 
inward,  of  gaining  self-knowledge  in  its  true  sense,  is  left 
to  be  the  growth  of  chance.  The  purely  intellectual  fac- 
ulty, the  power  of  comprehension,  instead  of  being  con- 
stantly employed  upon  objects  within  its  grasp,  is  neglected 
in  order  to  overload  the  memory.  Women  should  be  taught 
to  think,  to  be  logical,  to  bring  themselves  to  reason  where 


90  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

they  only  feel ;  to  study  abstract  justice  (a  quality  woman 
seldom  if  ever  possesses)  :  it  is  a  necessity. 

Much  may  be  said  of  the  capabilities  of  home  education 
for  a  girl  with  governesses.  We  are  not  rich  in  that  staple 
English  article  ;  but  there  are  good  governesses  to  be  found. 

It  is  a  question,  however,  whether  or  no  we  do  not  de- 
prive a  girl  of  much  that  is  afterward  agreeable  in  her  life 
in  not  sending  her  to  school.  She  ought  to  know  other 
girls,  and  to  measure  herself  with  them..  Youthful  friend- 
ships are  the  strongest;  and  we  would  not  like  to  relin- 
quish that  bond.  How  much  more  of  evil  she  will  learn 
than  of  good  in  a  mixed  boarding-school  remains  an  unan- 
swered question.  Most  people  after  a  careful  inquiry  are 
brave  enough  to  send  their  daughters  to  a  boarding-school ; 
and  there  are  some  schools  which  are  so  admirable  that 
they  can  certainly  do  our  daughters  much  more  good  than 
harm. 

The  public  school  is  no  doubt  a  better  place  for  the 
acquirement  of  knowledge  than  the  private  school.  It  is 
a  Procrustean  bed,  but  it  certainly  produces  good  scholars. 


XV. 

THE  UNHAPPY  HOME. 

Home  has,  as  we  have  all  seen,  great  capabilities  for 
being  unhappy.  Dissensions  among  its  members,  the  bad 
conduct  of  one  reacting  upon  all ;  the  shame  of  a  bad  fa- 
ther, the  dread  of  a  cruel  one  ;  the  incurable  peevishness, 
perhaps,  of  an  illy  disciplined  mother  ;  the  incompatibility 
of  temper,  the  suspicions  and  the  quarrels  which  may  arise 
even  among  well-intentioned  people,  often  make  home  a 
wretched  spot.  Bad  housekeeping,  an  irregular  income,  an 
attempt  to  make  a  show  beyond  one's  means,  all  these  things 
tend  to  make  home  unhappy. 

There  are,  too,  the  pstites  miseres.  When  one  desires 
a  quiet  house  and  another  wishes  a  noisy  one  ;  when  one 
is  social  and  the  other  is  a  recluse  ;  when  the  religious  sen- 
timents differ  as  to  the  propriety  of  amusements  ;  when 
one  likes  a  game  of  cards  and  the  other  considers  cards  as  a 
wicked  snare  ;  when  the  presence  of  a  clergyman  of  a  cer- 
tain denomination  is  desired  by  one  part  of  the  family  and 
objected  to  by  the  other — all  these  things  tend  to  make 
home  a  very  uncomfortable  spot.  If  the  husband  is  order- 
ly and  the  wife  is  not ;  if  the  wife  is  systematic  and  the 
husband  will  not  come  to  dinner  punctually ;  if,  year  after 
year,  the  struggling  people  find  themselves  no  better  off, 
losing  ground  all  the  time — then  sorrow  and  trouble  rise 
above  the  petites  miseres,  and  home  is  unhappy. 

It  is,  perhaps,  true  that  we  get  rid  of  all  these  cumula- 


92  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

tive  miseries  by  breaking  up  the  home  which  has  become 
freighted  with  dreadful  memories  of  dismal  days.  If  any- 
thing can  forgive  people  for  breaking  up  what  to  all  Anglo- 
Saxons  is  a  sacred  inclosure — that  of  the  homestead — this 
perpetual  misery  of  home  is  that  palliating  circumstance. 

"  Oh  !  if  1  never  could  see  again  that  old  sofa  where  I 
have  been  compelled  to  sit  and  hear  the  family  quarrel/' 
said  a  young  girl,  who  bravely  went  off  to  act  as  a  govern- 
ess, '*  I  think  I  could  fight  better  the  battle  of  life." 

^'  I  closed  the  door  of  my  house  in  Blank  Street,"  said 
the  father  of  a  family  after  a  winter  of  great  trouble,  ^^and 
locked  it,  feeling  happy  that  I  should  never  see  that  interior 
again.  It  is  one  of  the  many  advantages  in  hiring  a  house, 
that  you  can  leave  it,  and  begin  again,  in  a  new  spot,  a 
struggle  with  fate  and  fortune." 

*'My  father  ruined  the  health  and  happiness  of  his 
whole  family,"  said  the  heir  to  a  large  estate,  "by  binding 
us  all  to  a  great  house  which  he  had  built,  where  we,  our 
wives  and  children,  were  to  live  with  my  mother.  We  were 
all  so  unhappy,  so  discordant,  and  so  miserable  that,  after 
ten  years,  we  declared  that  we  would  all  go  poor  and  beg- 
ging through  the  world  rather  than  live  in  that  way  any 
longer.  Our  servants  kept  up  a  perpetual  bickering,  and 
we  were,  if  not  quarreling  ourselves,  trying  to  settle  their 
fights." 

No  man's  life  is  long  enough  for  him  to  accept  any  un- 
happiness  which  he  can  reasonably  get  rid  of.  We  advise 
every  family  who  are  thus  unhappy  at  home  to  break  up 
home,  if  they  can  do  so  without  violating  any  duty.  It  is 
often  better,  for  health,  virtue,  and  the  good  of  each  mem- 
ber, that  a  home  which  is  so  discordant  should  be  broken  up. 

It  is  not  always  the  worst  people  who  quarrel,  although 
quarreling  is  not  an  amiable  or  lofty  pursuit.  It  is  not  al- 
ways the  most  honest  or  the  best  people  who  have  the  art 
of  living  well  together. 


THE  UNHAPPY  HOME,  93 

A  father  who  is  procrastinating,  who  does  not  keep  his 
promises  to  children  in  the  way  of  money,  makes  an  un- 
happy home.  A  mother  who  prefers  her  own  ease  to  her 
children's  welfare,  who  has  outside  rather  than  inside  tastes, 
makes  an  unhappy  home.  Brothers  who  quarrel,  sisters 
who  disagree,  all  make  an  unhappy  home. 

A  father  once  radically  injured  the  character  of  his  son 
for  life  by  turning  away  a  visitor  whom  his  son  had  invited. 
The  boy  never  recovered  from  the  mortification. 

And  3"efc  people  such  as  these  we  have  mentioned  may  all 
be  moral  and  church-going  people,  meaning  in  their  heart 
of  hearts  to  do  right. 

Home  is  a  place  where  we  hide  our  griefs,  our  failings, 
our  shortcomings,  and  our  particular  secrets.  Therefore  it 
can  not  but  have  a  very  wide  capability  for  unhappiness. 

An  opium-eating  mother  once  shed  her  baleful  shadow 
over  a  home,  and  left  upon  her  daughters  such  a  scorn  of 
the  word  that  they  would  never  live  anywhere  but  at  board- 
ing-houses and  hotels.  **Do  not  talk  to  us  of  home,"  said 
both  in  a  voice. 

'*I  find  that  my  wife  and  I  are  much  fonder  of  each 
other  when  we  sit  down  every  day  with  a  dozen  people  than 
when  we  sit  drearily  opposite  alone,"  said  a  jolly  husband, 
who  went  through  life  very  respectably  and  happily,  al- 
though he  never  had  a  home.     Chacun  a  son  gout  I 

That  beautiful  old  English  word,  the  "homestead," 
thus  being  capable  of  expressing  so  much  that  is  terrible, 
we  can  not  but  acknowledge  that  there  is  a  shadow  to  the 
picture,  and  that  to  those  who  feel  that  home  is  neces- 
sarily unhappy  there  is  an  excuse  for  leaving  it. 

There  are  some  women  who,  with  the  best  intentions, 
can  not  keep  house.  There  is  a  fine  stone  house  near  a  cer- 
tain rural  city,  which  for  years  stood  empty,  while  the 
owners  and  their  children  lived  at  a  poor  and  uncomfortable 
inn.     It  was  well  furnished,    salubrious,   and  handsome. 


94  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

There  was  plenty  of  money  in  the  bank,  yet  this  family 
never  lived  at  home. 

''  What  is  the  matter  with  your  fine  stone  house,  Mark- 
ham  ?"  said  a  neighbor  ;  *^is  it  haunted  ?" 

*'  No,"  said  Markham  ;  ''  but  the  truth  is,  my  wife  can 
not  keep  house.  She  is  a  well-intentioned  woman,  an  ami- 
able woman,  and  an  intelligent  woman  ;  but  the  class  of 
faculties  which  belong  to  the  ordering  of  dinner,  the  train- 
ing or  keeping  of  servants,  she  has  not.  Nor  could  she 
happily  exist  with  a  housekeeper.  I  tried  it  three  years. 
I  begged  of  her  to  let  me  keep  house,  but  she  could  not  con- 
sent to  that ;  so,  never  having  had  breakfast  until  it  was 
dinner-time,  or  dinner  until  it  was  time  to  go  to  bed,  I 
gave  it  up,  and  we  have  lived  at  a  tavern  all  our  lives." 

We  may  talk  learnedly  of  the  virtues  and  of  the  duties, 
we  may  say  that  consideration  and  a  little  self-discipline 
would  cure  all  this.  No  doubt  it  would,  but  the  fact  re- 
mains that  neither  the  consideration  nor  the  self-discipline 
comes.  We  have  very  faulty  natures  to  contend  with,  very 
faulty  peoi^le  to  live  with.  We  must  meet,  as  best  we  may, 
the  unhappiness  of  home. 

If  people  could  tell  us  what  will  cure  us  as  well  as  to 
tell  us  what  makes  us  ill,  we  might  all  be  much  better  than 
we  are.  We  believe  that  the  cultivation  of  good  manners 
and  the  amenities  of  life  offer  the  best  of  all  apparent 
remedies  for  these  serious  evils.  "  Manners  are  what  vex 
and  soothe,  corrupt  or  purify,  exalt  or  debase,  barbarize  or 
refine  us,  by  a  constant,  steady,  uniform,  insensible  opera- 
tion like  that  of  the  air  we  breathe  in." 

And,  of  all  places  in  the  world,  home  is  the  place  in 
which  we  should  cultivate  manners.  The  very  fact  that  it 
is  difficult  and  that  we  desire  of  all  things  ease  at  home 
is  but  another  reason  why  we  should,  in  that  furnace  of 
trial,  cover  our  too  easily  smarting  flesh  with  the  asbestos 
of  a  calm  and  polite  manner. 


-THE  UNHAPPY  HOME.  95 

There  is  no  truer  phrdse  than  that  the  road  to  home 
happiness  lies  over  small  stepping-stones.  So  small  are 
sometimes  the  causes  of  our  unhappiness  that  we  wonder 
that  the  consequences  can  be  so  great. 

One  very  great  palliative  is  the  determination  by  every 
member  of  the  family  not  to  dwell  on  the  circumstances, 
whatever  they  may  be,  which  are  alike  sad  to  them  all. 
If  it  be  poverty,  let  it  be  cheerfully  and  silently  borne  ; 
if  it  be  the  ill  temper  of  Grandpapa,  try  to  make  a  joke  of 
it.  If  it  be  something  infinitely  worse,  and  also  hopeless, 
accept  it  bravely  ;  do  not  talk  of  it.  Try,  in  the  family 
circle,  to  ignore  it ;  accept  every  little  enlivening  circum- 
stance ;  let  in  all  the  sun  and  air ;  work  on,  and  work 
courageously,  knowing  that,  however  near  to  us  an  unhap- 
piness may  be,  however  innocently  we  may  have  incurred 
the  stroke  of  fate,  there  is  One  who  knows  better  than 
we  do  what  may  be  the  best  discipline  for  us,  and  that 
among  his  dispensations  may  be  the  unhappiness  of  home. 


XVI. 

THE   MUSICAL  MEMBER. 

We  have  spoken  of  the  angelic  influence  of  music  in 
the  education  of  home,  and  of  its  result  upon  the  ameni- 
ties. It  now  remains  for  us  to  consider  one  possible  excess 
of  this  virtue  which  may  become  a  fault. 

There  is  a  conversation  upon  record  of  the  possible  evils 
of  piano  playing.     It  runs  somewhat  thus  : 

"  Charlie,  I  am  engaged  ! " 

"Ah  I  I  congratulate  you." 

"  To  a  lovely  girl." 

"  No  doubt.     Is  she  good,  amiable,  pretty  ?  " 

^'  Of  course,  of  course,  and  more." 

^^  What— rich?" 

"Ah,  yes  !  very  well ;  but  better  than  that." 

"What  can  be  better?" 

"  My  dear  boy,  she  does  not  play  the  piano  ! " 

"  Ah,  my  friend,  my  friend,  then  she  is  not  a  woman — 
she  is  an  angel ! " 

Much  drumming  on  the  piano  in  a  house  has  led  to 
great  home  unhappiness  to  those  who  have  sensitive  ears 
and  a  somewhat  nervous  temperament.  The  practicing  of 
children  and  young  people,  though  necessary,  is  most  try- 
ing, and,  to  old  people  and  to  sick  people,  intolerable.  It 
must  be  done,  however,  and  the  wise  mother  puts  it  off 
into  the  third  story  or  somewhere  where  it  will  incon- 
venience the  fewest  people. 


THE  MUSICAL  MEMBER.  97 

In  the  succeeding  stage,  when  the  performer  plays 
pretty  well — not  very  well — the  trials  to  the  family  are 
great ;  for,  while  it  amuses  the  performer  to  pick  out  the 
notes  of  a  piece  which  neither  express  melody  nor  tlio 
mathematical  triumph  of  the  performer,  the  listener  is 
very  miserable.  The  performer  is  amused  ;  the  performer 
is  learning  something  ;  but  the  listener  is  on  the  rack. 

More  than  half  the  pianoforte  playing  of  the  world  is  of 
this  description.  We  all  know  the  sufferings  to  Fine  Ear, 
walking  through  the  streets  of  a  city,  when  the  windows 
are  open  in  early  summer,  hearing  the  pianos  engaged  in 
a  battle  royal  of  pieces  played  badly,  played  noisily,  and 
played  persistently.  This  is  constant  in  some  houses,  and 
one  wonders  how  a  mother  who  has  a  number  of  young 
daughters  ever  endures  the  constant  bang !  bang !  of  the 
piano. 

The  practice  of  the  scales  and  of  five-finger  exercises 
may  be  reckoned  as  among  the  trials  of  the  home-staying 
members  of  the  family.  Indeed,  people  with  sensitive  ears 
run  away  from  it.  How  much  worse  is  the  melancholy 
first  lesson  on  the  flute,  the  detestable  drone  of  the  trom- 
bone, and  the  squeak  of  the  violin  ! 

And  yet  the  learner  must  practice  ;  it  is  a  necessary 
evil.  An  invention  which  has  never  been  sufficiently  ad- 
mired is  a  soundless  piano,  which  affords  the  learner  every 
facility  for  reading  and  learning  the  fingering,  and  which 
yet  disturbs  nobody. 

No  one  is  apt  to  be  more  selfish,  by  the  way,  than  the 
musical  member  of  the  family.  If  her  education  is  con- 
ducted with  an  end  to  display,  she  practices  her  piano 
and  her  singing,  if  she  have  a  voice,  or  if  she  wish  to  create 
one,  without  any  mercy  to  others  who  may  be  suffering  from 
a  headache.  She  fills  the  house  with  what  her  father  calls 
** queer  foreigners" — Germans  generally — who  may  amuse 
her,  but  who  do  not  please  the  family.    She  carries  her  taste 


98  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

to  excess,  until  the  sound  of  her  piano  or  her  not  too  musi- 
cal voice  becomes  a  family  nuisance. 

The  musical  young  man  is,  perhaps,  rather  unpopular 
at  home.  He  must  have  the  piano  when  he  wants  it,  and 
the  others  must  retire  from  the  parlor  while  he  is  practic- 
ing, or  when  his  musical  friends  come  to  see  him. 

It  is  a  feature  of  nineteenth-century  fashion  that  each 
young  man  must  have  a  specialty.  It  is  no  longer  enough 
that  he  is  a  gentleman.  He  must  be  a  hunting  man,  a 
dancing  man,  a  private-theatrical  man,  a  reading  man,  a 
dog  man,  or  a  musical  man.  And  it  is  well  for  society  that 
it  is  so,  if  the  tastes  are  sincere,  and  if  a  man  cultivates  a 
taste  because  he  likes  it  and  because  he  wishes  to  make 
himself  agreeable.  But,  if  he  cultivates  music  merely  to 
the  end  of  display,  the  result  is  a  sad  one  for  his  family.  If 
he  makes  of  himself  a  permanent  exhibition,  until  his  vigor- 
ous rendering  of  a  familiar  song  becomes  monotonous,  if  he 
goes  through  his  musical  gymnasium  constantly,  he  be- 
comes a  great  bore  in  the  family.  And  such  a  man  is  apt 
to  do  this  sort  of  perfunctory  practicing  much  of  the  time. 
People  who  have  thus  led  their  families  through  the  pain 
of  hearing  them  practice  should  be  very  amiable  at  home, 
and  play,  when  they  are  asked,  without  much  urging. 

But  such  musical  people  never  wish  to  play  when  any 
member  of  the  family  asks  them.  They  do  not  wish  to 
play  the  pieces  which  the  family  like  to  hear.  They  are 
never  in  the  mood  to  sing  ^'  Jock  o'  Hazeldean,"  or  to  play 
what  they  call  *^ popular  music,"  with  a  term  of  reproach. 
Life  is  too  short,  too  precious,  they  say,  to  play  ^*  popular 
music,"  and  they  insist  upon  pla3dng  something  from 
Bach,  who  was  a  "great  contrapuntist,"  or  some  other 
classic  author.  A  national  hymn  which  moves  everybody's 
heart  they  will  neither  play  nor  sing. 

There  is  no  doubt  at  all  of  the  real  American  love  and 
appreciation  for  music,  no  doubt  at  all  of  the  wide-spread 


THE  MUSICAL  MEMBER.  99 

amateur  culture.  More  women  sing  well  in  our  homes  than 
in  Florence,  London,  Paris,  or  Vienna.  The  splendid  per- 
formances of  our  musical  societies  have  gratified  a  want ; 
they  have  also  created  one,  and  they  have  educated  a  taste. 
Still,  in  the  light  of  all  these  blessings,  the  musical  mem- 
ber can,  if  he  or  she  be  thoughtless,  make  the  whole  family 
miserable. 

If  a  girl  is  thoughtful,  she  can  practice  when  the  fam- 
ily are  out.  She  can  bide  her  time  to  be  discordant.  She 
can  exercise  her  voice  in  her  walks,  when  she  is  among  the 
mountains,  where  no  one  will  hear  her  shrieks.  She  will 
not  sit  down  or  rise  up  to  her  scales  when  her  father  has 
just  come  home  weary  from  his  business.  She  will  not  play 
or  sing  if  her  mother  has  Just  laid  down  for  a  nap  which 
is  to  ward  off  a  headache. 

And  when  she  is  asked  to  play,  she  will,  if  amiable,  go 
to  the  piano  and  play  at  once.  She  will  not  need  urging, 
and  she  will  play  what  she  is  asked  to  play,  not  something 
too  erudite  for  her  hearers.  ^'  There  are  pieces  of  music," 
says  Lamb,  ^'^  which  do  plague  and  embitter  my  apprehen- 
sion." 

"  The  meaning  of  song  goes  deep,"  says  Carlyle.  "  Who 
is  there  that  in  logical  words  can  express  the  effect  music 
has  on  us  ?  A  kind  of  inarticulate,  unfathomable  speech, 
which  leads  us  to  the  edge  of  the  infinite,  and  lets  us  for 
moments  gaze  into  that !  " 

Now,  when  we  remember  what  the  musical  member  can 
do  for  home  if  so  inclined,  we  can  hardly  forgive  one  for 
making  home  unpleasant.  It  is  an  abuse  of  the  privi- 
leges of  home  to  merely  fit  ourselves  there  for  outside 
display. 

"Tunes  and  airs,"  says  Lord  Bacon,  "have  in  them- 
selves some  affinity  with  the  affections,  as  merry  tunes, 
doleful  tunes,  solemn  tunes,  tunes  inclining  men's  minds 
to  pity,  warlike  tunes,  so  as  it  is  no  marvel  if  they  alter 


100  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

the  spirits,  considering  that  tunes  bear  a  predisposition  to 
the  motion  of  the  spirit." 

We  sometimes  hear  music  called  ^^the  universal  lan- 
guage." When  we  do  so,  we  must  remember  that  day  at 
the  Tower  of  Babel,  when  all  tongues  were  confused.  The 
artist  or  the  composer  has  a  life  apart,  a  noble  and  unique 
life,  to  which  none  of  our  light  satire  can  apply.  It  is 
only  to  those  who  in  seeking  the  noble  art  abuse  it, 
tinker  at  it,  approach  it  in  an  inartistic  spirit,  that  we 
would  reproach,  and  we  may  add  that  the  practice  of  mu- 
sical mechanism  is  not  intellectual ;  it  does  not  nourish  the 
brain  or  feed  the  heart ;  it  does  not  leave  the  mind  at  lib- 
erty to  think  ;  it  chokes  everything  but  its  own  development 
— so  the  musical  member  of  the  family  must  exercise  all  his 
consideration  for  his  family  before  he  commits  himself  to 
his  instrument ;  for  that  surely,  like  a  Moloch,  will  conquer 
him  at  once. 

The  musician's  strict  exercise  admits  of  very  little  imag- 
ination or  emotion  ;  it  requires  industry,  perception,  and 
nerve.  As  it  becomes  more  mechanical,  it  is  less  refining 
and  elevating.  There  is  a  feeling  in  society  that  executive 
and  artistic  musicians  are  less  distinguished  for  morality 
than  their  neighbors.  Whether  this  is  true  or  not,  and 
whether  to  the  performers  of  the  most  heavenly  music  may 
be  denied  the  good  which  they  are  the  means  of  being  to 
others,  we  can  not  decide.  Locke  says,  sententiously,  "  I 
have  among  men  of  parts  and  business  seldom  heard  any 
one  commended  for  having  an  excellency  in  music." 

But  our  only  deduction  from  these  various  thoughts  is 
this  :  The  musical  member  of  the  family  should  be  careful 
not  to  disturb  the  harmony  of  home. 


XVII. 

THE   CHEERFUL  MEMBER. 

Gayety  of  heart,  innocent  and  pure,  is  the  delightful 
daughter  of  good  feeling  and  cheerfulness ;  it  is  the  sun- 
shine of  the  mind,  the  day-dawn  of  all  the  faculties.  Some 
of  us  are  born  with  this  gift,  but  some  of  us  are  born 
grave  and  somber  ;  some  of  us  grow  sad,  and  lose  our  bright- 
est lance,  a  laugh,  as  we  go  on  in  life.  But,  whatever  our 
own  mood,  we  are  grateful  to  that  inmate  of  home  who  is 
known  as  the  **  cheerful  member."  "VVe  all  appreciate 
gayety  in  others.     There  is  no  poem  like  "  L' Allegro." 

In  the  first  place,  gayety  implies  courage.  There  is 
enough  to  weep  over  in  the  world.  We  should  be  forgiven 
for  going  about  with  our  heads  in  a  muffler  if  we  only  wept 
over  our  own  mistakes.  We  could  weep  over  the  grave  of 
our  once  noble  motives,  our  own  disillusions,  and  our  lost 
belief  in  human  nature  ;  we  might  even  weep  over  our  lost 
appetite  for  dinner,  satiety,  and  a  changed  condition  of  the 
palate,  which  no  longer  responds  to  mince-pie. 

But  we  do  not  weep  when  a  figure  all  clad  in  rose-color, 
with  floating  veil  flying  back  upon  the  wind,  comes  danc- 
ing toward  us,  and  calls  us  to  go  through  green  meadows 
by  laughing  streams  to  where  the  rainbow  touches  the 
ground.  Why  should  we  weep  when  we  can  laugh  ?  Let 
us  exploit  this  symbol  of  our  immortality,  and  laugh  like 
the  gods.  Gayety  is  contagious  ;  it  is  almost  the  only  good 
thing  which  is.     One  gay  person  makes  a  party  brilliant ; 


102  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

it  fills  a  theatre;  every  one  goes  to  see  a  funny  piece. 
It  wins  the  day  on  the  field  of  battle.  The  courageous  fel- 
low who  can  laugh  and  joke  amid  grape  and  shot  and  can- 
ister will  live  to  fight  another  day. 

Hood,  as  we  know,  conquered  life  with  gayety,  but  he 
also  had  genius  and  indomitable  will.  But  the  lesson  he 
teaches  us  is  none  the  less  valuable.  How  Shakespeare 
loved  a  woman  whose  soul  was  full  of  gayety  !  When  he 
began  to  sketch  Eosalind  and  Portia,  or  even  the  coarser 
Merry  Wives  of  Windsor,  he  did  not  like  to  leave  them. 
Gayety  may  be  as  pure  as  a  rosebud,  "  frisking  light  in  frolic 
measure."  She  is  as  natural  as  the  lambs  and  as  musical  as 
the  birds. 

We  owe  the  French  people  much  for  their  gifts  of  gay- 
ety to  us  of  a  slower  race.  We  are  perhaps  a  little  too 
Gothic,  too  solemn,  too  much  in  earnest,  to  get  out  of  life 
all  that  it  has  of  ornament  and  gayety  and  cheer.  We 
should  indulge  in  a  gayer  social  architecture,  Corinthian 
capital  and  flying  buttress,  some  '^chateau  en  Espagne" 
— homes  of  gay  and  joyous  guests. 

The  cheerful  son  of  the  house  !  how  dear  he  is,  with  his 
bonny  smile,  his  comic  songs,  his  quips  and  quirks  !  How 
he  bids  black  care  depart,  and  brings  a  smile  to  the  lips  of 
the  sad,  overburdened  father,  the  despondent  mother,  who 
has  perhaps  laid  one  of  her  lambs  away  in  the  churchyard  ! 
How  much  the  family  lean  on  the  buoyant  spirit !  He 
never  believes  in  the  worst ;  he  is  no  pessimist.  He  believes 
in  the  best,  thinks  the  sick  will  get  well,  the  bad  reform, 
the  traveler  will  arrive  safe  at  his  journey's  end.  He  never 
foments  a  quarrel  or  touches  on  the  family  weak  spot. 
He  has  tact  (all  gay  people  are  apt  to  have  it),  and  he 
avoids  saying  disagreeable  things.  His  fine  temper  makes 
him  a  sincere  but  adroit  flatterer.  He  finds  everybody 
looking  well,  everybody  in  first-rate  condition.  Eain  does 
not  wet  him  nor  fire  scorch.    He  is  the  *'  cheerful  member." 


THE  CHEERFUL  MEMBER.  103 

Even  ill-health  can  not  quell  that  delightful  laugh.  He 
knits  up  "  the  raveled  sleeve  of  care  " ;  he  is  better  than 
sleep ;  he  is  better  than  a  dinner  of  twelve  courses.  His 
temperament  is  gracious/ and  of  the  sweetest  and  sunniest ; 
he  is  the  brightest  of  all  the  influences  of  home. 

Growing  out  of  gayety  in  good  women  comes  another 
grace,  cordiality  of  manner.  Who  can  separate  the  two  ? 
Cordiality  must  come  with  a  smile.  Sometimes  she  is  a 
little  grave,  then  we  call  her  **  cheerfulness ;"  but,  in  her 
best  estate,  cordiality  and  gayety  are  sworn  friends.  The 
cheerful,  gay  woman  who  can  keep  her  family  laughing, 
who  can  laugh  herself,  has  half  conquered  life  by  that 
power.  There  is  something  to  laugh  at  in  the  gloomiest 
lot.  We  can  steal  sunbeams  out  of  cucumbers,  if  we  choose. 
•  One  reason  why  gayety  and  cordiality  are  such  good 
virtues  is  that  they  are  unegotistical.  A  person  goes  out 
of  himself  when  he  is  gay  ;  he  retires  within  himself  when 
he  is  sullen  and  when  he  is  angry.  Justice,  verity,  tem- 
perance, stableness,  perseverance,  and  patience  are  some- 
what egotistical  virtues.  They  may  not  conduce  to  cheer- 
fulness. The  '^ professedly  pious"  are  not  all  cheerful, 
although  they  should  be.  Sometimes  wounded  vanity  mas- 
querades as  repentance. 

The  cheerful  member  is  a  great  physician.  He  cures 
many  a  fancied  disease  ;  he  lights  up  the  darkest  day  ;  Avith 
his  song  and  laugh  there  is  always  company  in  the  house  ; 
he  goes  through  life  as  a  guest — for  everybody  entertains 
him. 

^'^Such  a  man  creams  off  nature,  leaving  the  sour  and 
the  dregs  for  philosophy  and  reason  to  lap  up. " 

The  cheerful  person  is  master  of  all  his  talents,  powers, 
and  faculties ;  his  imagination  is  clear,  his  judgment  undis- 
turbed, his  temper  is  even  and  unruffled.  He  tlierefore  is 
most  useful  in  the  world  of  action.  He  has  a  beneficent 
influence  upon  all  with  whom  he  converses,  bringing  out 


104  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

their  best  gifts,  and  his  attitude  toward  his  Maker  is  the 
best  and  highest,  because  it  is  that  of  constant  and  habitual 
gratitude. 

Of  course,  we  can  not  but  acknowledge  that  these  fortu- 
nate gay  people  are  born,  and  not  made ;  we  must  admire 
and  copy  tliem  if  we  can.     We  can  not  all  be  like  them. 

Arthur  Helps  says:  **Be  cheerful,  no  matter  what  re- 
verse obstructs  your  pathway  or  what  plague  follows  you  in 
your  trail  to  annoy  you.  Do  not  allow  despair  to  unnerve 
your  energies  ! ''  This  is  good  advice,  but  he  might  as  well 
tell  us  to  be  beautiful.  We  will  be  cheerful  of  course  if  we 
can  ! 

We  have  learned  from  observation  of  others,  and  from 
experience  ourselves,  that  wealth  and  external  prosperity 
have  nothing  to  do  with  either  gayety  or  cheerfulness. 
AVealth  is  a  great  blessing  ;  rightly  used,  it  is  an  immense 
convenience.  Where  we  have  it  not,  it  seems  to  be  the 
very  thing  we  have  most  needed  and  wanted. 

But  we  do  not  see  the  rich  any  more  cheerful  than  the 
poor.  The  very  poor  are  exceedingly  cheerful.  The  happy 
man  of  the  comedy  had  no  shirt. 

We  are  not,  ourselves,  if  Heaven  send  us  wealth,  apt  to 
be  more  cheerful.  We  become  afraid,  covetous,  grasping, 
nervous,  careful.  We  have  something  to  lose — which  is 
always  a  bad  position  to  be  in. 

It  is  not  the  rich  young  man  who  is  the  happiest. 
Many  dog-carts,  T-carts,  coaches  and  four,  club  windows, 
good  dinners,  perpetual  feasting,  hunting-fields,  and  race- 
courses do  not  make  a  man  happy.  Would  that  they  did  ! 
For,  then,  some  fortunate  parent  would  buy  happiness  for 
his  son  ;  and  we  have  never  heard  of  any  millionaire  who 
could  do  that. 

The  happy  fellow  is  he  who  goes  whistling  and  singing 
to  his  work  ;  he  never  meets  Ennui — has  never  been  intro- 
duced to  him. 


THE  CnEERFUL  MEMBER.  105 

The  old  simile  of  the  grindstones,  which,  if  no  grist  is 
put  in  between,  will  grind  themselves,  applies  to  the  rich 
man  who  has  nothing  to  do.  A  man  can  buy  fine  houses, 
toadies,  appanage,  vassalage,  followers,  and  flatterers,  with 
money,  good  clothes  also,  and  choice  wines,  but  he  can  not 
buy  cheerfulness.     That  must  be  inherited  or  earned. 

We  look  into  the  homes  of  the  poor  for  cheerfulness. 
The  greatest  man  of  antiquity  was  the  poorest.  What  a 
warm  sympathy,  what  glee,  what  happiness  are  there  in  the 
humble  home,  when  talent,  taste,  and  genius  dwell  with 
poverty  !  That  iron  band  which  holds  them  together  so 
stanchly  and  so  nearly — which  excludes  indulgence  and 
sensuality — has  caught  one  guest  not  asked  ;  it  is  Gayety, 
and  there  is  always  room  for  him.  Poverty  has  directed 
their  activity  into  safe  and  right  channels,  and  made  them 
strong  and  cheerful. 

*^  The  affectionate  delight  with  which  they  greet  the 
return  of  each  one  after  the  early  separations  which  school 
or  business  requires,  the  foresight  with  which  during  such 
absences  they  hive  the  honey  which  opportunity  offers  for 
the  ear  and  the  imagination  of  the  others,  and  the  unre- 
strained glee  with  which  they  disburden  themselves  of 
their  early  mental  treasures  when  the  holidays  bring  them 
together  " — all  this  is  to  be  seen  in  the  homes  of  the  men 
to  whom  Heaven  has  answered  the  prayer,  **  Give  me 
neither  poverty  nor  riches." 

The  house  of  the  rich  man  is  spacious,  often  lonely. 
The  house  of  the  poor  man  is  crowded  and  inconvenient, 
but  it  is  cheerful. 

"The  household  gods  of  the  poor  man  are  of  flesh  and 
blood,  with  no  alloy  of  silver  or  gold  or  precious  stones. 
He  has  no  property  but  in  the  affections  of  his  own  heart, 
and,  when  they  endear  bare  floors  and  walls,  despite  of  toil 
and  scanty  meals,  that  man  has  his  love  of  home  from  God, 
and  his  rude  hut  becomes  a  cheerful  place. '' 


XVIII. 

THE   GOOD  FATHER. 

It  is  one  of  the  misfortunes  of  our  American  way  of 
living  that  the  head  of  the  house,  the  father — he  who  is  the 
support,  the  mainstay,  the  highest  central  figure — sliould 
be  scarcely  able  to  live  with  his  family  at  all.  If  he  is  a 
busy  man,  earning  their  daily  bread,  he  must  leave  them 
after  a  hasty  breakfast,  to  meet  them  again  at  a  late  dinner 
with  a  chance  of  seeing  them  in  the  evening ;  but,  if  a 
club  man,  or  anxious  for  the  opportunity  of  going  out  in 
the  evening  for  improvement  or  change,  he  does  not  see 
much  of  his  family  even  then.  The  younger  children  get 
to  regard  him  as  a  feature  of  Sundays,  and  perhaps  asso- 
ciate him  with  the  unpleasant  slavery  of  sitting  still  in 
church.  A  loving  and  kind  father  will,  of  course,  impress 
himself  upon  his  family  and  earn  their  affection  and  respect 
even  in  these  brief  intervals ;  but  it  is  too  little  for  the 
proper  emphasis  of  an  affection  which  should  be  almost 
the  first  in  our  hearts. 

There  must  be  something  radically  wrong  in  the  ar- 
rangements of  life  when  this  can  happen.  Either  women 
should  enter  more  into  the  business  of  life  or  man  should 
work  less,  for  a  father  is  the  natural  teacher,  guardian,  and 
companion  of  his  family.  We  will,  for  the  moment,  ig- 
nore the  fact  that  he  may  desire  the  rest  and  the  comforts 
of  the  home  which  he  supports  but  scarcely  enjoys ;  we 
will  consider  only  the  loss  to  his  children  of  his  society. 


THE  GOOD  FATHER.  107 

The  father  is,  of  course,  the  natural  and  the  best  com- 
panion for  his  boys ;  to  teach  them  to  swim,  to  ride,  to 
master  the  common  knowledge  and  accomplishments  of 
life,  should  be  his  pleasure.  He  should  be  their  teacher  in 
the  arts  of  gunnery  and  the  noble  science  of  the  fishing-rod. 
They  ought  to  be  able  to  remember  him  as  the  story-teller 
and  companion  of  their  sports,  the  best  guide,  and  the 
most  agreeable  company  that  they  will  ever  know.  How 
they  hang  on  his  lips  as  he  tells  them  of  his  own  boyhood, 
his  sufferings  at  the  poorly  fed  boarding-school,  where  he 
had  to  gather  raw  turnips  in  the  field  !  How  they  like  to 
hear  of  the  size  of  his  first  trout ;  how  magnificent  he  looks 
to  them  as  he  tells  of  his  shooting  a  deer  !  How  much,  as 
they  grow  older,  they  enjoy  his  college  stories  !  His  early 
struggles  and  conquests  give  them  heart  for  the  same  strife 
and  victory  which  they  are  about  to  plunge  into. 

It  is  a  very  happy  circumstance  also  for  the  grown 
daughters  if  their  father,  after  having  petted  them  as  little 
girls,  after  helping  to  solve  the  difficult  question  in  arith- 
metic, after  construing  the  Latin,  and  giving  them  a  little 
sweep  of  his  strong  penmanship,  is  still  young  and  fresh 
enough  to  go  out  into  society  with  them. 

They  like  to  enter  a  party  on  his  arm  ;  they  like  to  have 
him  take  them  about  between  the  dances.  They  feel  that 
they  have  a  strong  government  behind  them,  and  are  some- 
what independent  of  partners.  A  young-minded  papa  is 
a  great  boon  to  a  daughter. 

But  here  again  comes  in  a  national  mistake.  Our  best 
men  will  rarely  go  to  parties  ;  they  leave  all  that  work  to 
the  mamma.  Fatigued  they  no  doubt  are  by  their  hard  fight 
with  the  world,  and  society  offers  them  no  seat,  no  wel- 
come. Boys  are  leading  the  German.  Boys  are  crowding 
the  supper-table.  The  wealthy,  important  merchant  goes  to 
a  ball  to  find  his  third  clerk  of  much  more  importance  than 
he  is,  and  he  naturally  retires  disgusted.     It  is  an  exces- 


108  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

sively  vulgar  state  of  society,  where  mature  men  are  thus 
driven  out,  but  it  is  alone  the  mature  men  who  can  cor- 
rect it. 

When  our  middle-aged  men  will  make  a  point  of  going 
into  society,  then,  and  not  till  then,  will  they  become  a  part 
of  it,  and  the  women  will  find,  what  many  of  them  have 
already  found,  that  they  are  much  better  worth  talking  to 
than  the  boys. 

A  good  father  owes  it  to  his  wife  and  children  to  thus 
keep  pace  with  them  in  their  amusements,  not  allowing 
himself  to  get  rusty,  or  to  have  an  entirely  different  set  of 
ideas  and  occupations.  They  can  not  enter  into  his  pro- 
fessional or  business  life.  When  he  leaves  after  breakfast,  he 
becomes  a  mystery  to  them.  But  he  can,  on  his  return,  go 
with  them  to  the  theatre,  the  party,  or  the  concert,  and 
should  try  to  do  so  to  make  himself  a  part  of  them. 

They,  in  their  turn,  the  sons  and  daughters,  should  have 
every  delicate  attention,  every  agreeable  accomplishment, 
ready  to  make  home  delightful  to  the  father  who  works  for 
them.  There  is  something  pathetic  in  the  idea  of  the 
chained  slave,  chained  to  the  oar,  to  whom  all  look  for 
money,  clothing,  food.  If  he  is  a  millionaire,  all  goes  well, 
but  if  he  is  a  struggling  man,  threatened  with  ruin,  know- 
ing that  so  long  as  he  lives  he  must  pull  up  the  stony  hill, 
the  only  reward  when  he  reaches  the  top  the  going  down 
on  the  other  side,  it  is  sad  enough.  It  is  wonderful  that  so 
many  men  bear  it  patiently,  and  accept  it  as  the  inevitable 
doom  ! 

What  fireside  can  be  made  too  easy  for  such  a  man  ? 
What  good  dinners,  cheerful  faces,  what  voices  full  of  obe- 
dience, should  greet  the  hard-working,  patient  man  !  His 
newspaper  should  be  aired,  his  slippers  ready,  his  particular 
magazine  in  waiting,  with  the  paper-knife  in  place.  His 
favorite  tastes  should  be  consulted,  his  cigars  and  allumettes 
in  readiness.     All  the  disagreeable  remarks  about  bills  and 


TEE  GOOD  FATHER.  109 

the  coal  should  be  deferred  until  after  breakfast  next  morn- 
ing— that  moment  conceded  by  all  for  disagreeable  com- 
munications. He  should  be  forgiven  if  he  is  abstracted  and 
silent.  His  cares  may  be  greater  than  he  can  bear,  but  he 
should  be  tenderly  moved  to  talk,  and  be  merry,  at  least 
cheerful. 

We  all  know  families  in  which  the  mother  and  daughters 
are  in  conspiracy  against  the  father,  where  he  is  looked 
upon  simply  as  a  bank  to  be  robbed,  where  the  buying  of 
expensive  dresses  must  go  on,  whether  they  can  be  paid  for 
or  not,  and  where  the  asking  for  and  obtaining  of  money 
i^  all  the  need  they  have  of  him.  Henry  James,  Jr.,  has 
drawn  the  picture  in  '^  The  Pension  Beauregard,"  his  com- 
panion-piece to  "  Daisy  Miller."  Such  rapacity  and  vulgar- 
ity are  too  common.     They  belong  to  the  abuses  of  home. 

But  we  know  many  another  home  where  there  are  si- 
lent economies  practiced,  heart-breaking  ones  sometimes, 
rather  than  to  "ask  father  for  money";  where  each  one 
feels  a  personal  indebtedness  to  the  hard-working  head  of 
the  house,  and  where  each  one  sighs  for  the  time  when  ho 
or  she  can  help  along. 

The  household  is  the  home  of  the  man  as  well  as  of  the 
child.  To  it  he  should  bring  all  that  is  best  in  him  :  his 
culture,  if  he  has  any,  at  least,  his  lofty,  true  thoughts,  his 
benevolence  and  refinement.  He  should  not,  in  getting 
rich,  sacrifice  himself.  This  is  too  great  a  price  to  pay  for 
bread  and  lodging,  fine  hangings  and  fine  clothes.  A  busi- 
ness man  should  take  time  to  read,  else  when  he  becomes  a 
man  of  leisure,  he  will  find  that  he  can  not  read.  He  must 
bring  into  his  household  that  spirit  which  is  understanding, 
health,  and  self-help.  There  was  never  a  country  which 
offered  to  the  working  man,  the  business  man,  the  true 
man,  such  opportunity  for  a  happy  home  as  this.  He  can, 
in  the  first  place,  be  educated  without  money  ;  he  can  go  to 
work  without  it.      He  can  begin  without  patronage  ;  the 

10 


110  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

field  is  as  open  to  the  poor  boy  as  to  the  rich  one.  It  is 
character  which  determines  everything. 

It  is  sad  to  be  obliged  to  confess  that  many  a  home,  full 
of  prosperity,  full  of  rosy  children,  is  still  unhappy  be- 
cause of  some  mistake  of  father  or  mother,  or  both,  some 
unruly  tongue,  some  implacable  temper  !  It  seems  as  if  a 
demon  stood  at  the  door  and  warned  happiness  away.  Noth- 
ing can  be  urged  in  such  a  case  but  the  old,  old  remedy 
of  good  manners,  manners  which  shall  compel  an  outward 
decency,  and  which  will  make  one  hesitate  to  exhibit  the 
shame  of  an  open  quarrel.  To  see  one's  parents  quarrel  is 
the  most  dreadful  suffering,  the  most  acute  mortification, 
to  a  family  of  children. 

**Many  a  marriage  has  commenced,  like  the  morning, 
red,  and  perished  like  a  mushroom.  Wherefore  ?  Be- 
cause the  married  pair  neglected  to '  be  as  agreeable  to 
each  other  after  their  union  as  they  were  before  it,"  says 
that  intelligent  old  maid  Fredrika  Bremer.  Old  maids 
always  write  well  about  marriage  and  the  education  of 
children.  Perhaps  the  looker-on  is  the  best  judge  of  the 
game. 

The  quarrels  of  married  people  who  really  love  each 
other  and  which  come  from  irritated  temper  are  soon 
healed,  and  the  daily  life  goes  on  without  a  sensible  break 
between  them.  But,  for  the  sake  of  their  home,  these  dis- 
sensions should  be  avoided  as  much  as  possible.  They  both 
lose  dignity  and  place  in  the  ideas  of  their  family,  and  the 
servants  are  not  as  apt  to  obey. 

A  father  should  never  under  any  circumstances  permit 
his  children  to  treat  him  with  disrespect.  They  will  never 
forgive  him  for  it  even  if  he  forgives.  Nor  should  he  desert 
his  post  as  captain  of  the  ship.  In  those  unhappy  families, 
where,  as  in  the  tragedy  of  ^'  King  Lear,"  we  see  the  result 
of  power  given  away,  there  is  a  perpetual  lesson  of  the  folly 
of  a  father's  renunciation  of  his  power.     Happy  for  him  if 


THE  GOOD  FATHER,  111 

in  his  group  of  daughters  there  be  one  Cordelia  to  balance 
Regan  and  Goneril. 

The  wise  father  will  so  graduate  his  expenditure,  if 
living  on  an  income,  that  his  expected  expenditure  will 
reach  but  two  thirds  of  his  income,  knowing  well  that  the 
unexpected  will  consume  the  other  third.  The  trouble  is  in 
America  that  no  one  knows  exactly  what  his  income  is. 
In  England  he  can  tell  to  the  quarter  of  a  penny,  even  for 
his  great-grandchildren.  But  here,  where  by  far  the  largest 
number  live  from  hand  to  mouth,  thorough  economy  is 
almost  impossible.  Things  look  well  one  year,  and  a  hos- 
pitable table,  good  clothes,  and  fine  carriages  are  not  im- 
possible. Things  look  very  much  less  well  the  next  year, 
and  these  now  necessaries  of  life  become  impossible  ;  so  the 
business  of  making  one's  house  a  scene  of  consistent  ex- 
penditure, without  miserly  prudence  or  injudicious  luxury, 
is  a  very  difficult  one.  Our  exchequer  resembles  our  cli- 
mate— heavy  rains  or  a  long  drought.  We  do  not  know 
which  to  calculate  upon. 

It  is  quite  impossible,  too,  in  a  liberally  conducted 
household,  to  calculate  on  the  peculations  of  servants.  The 
families  who  are  fed  even  out  of  a  well-guarded  basement 
door  are  in  the  proportion  of  three  to  one.  Just  so  many 
servants,  so  many  leaks.  There  is  such  a  thing  as  an  honest 
servant,  but  they  are  rare.  They  have  a  great  central  idea 
of  honor  and  good  fellowship.  They  will  not  tell  of  each 
other.  A  servant  who  complains  of  her  fellow-servant  is  out 
of  the  aristocracy  of  the  kitchen.  Who  can  watch  the  flour- 
barrel,  the  coal-heap,  the  coffee-bag  ?  The  emptying  of 
the  tea-chest,  the  diminution  of  the  sugar-barrel,  is  imper- 
ceptible, like  the  dew.  One  only  knows  it  is  going  when  it 
is  gone. 

No  wonder  that  people  seek  to  live  in  apartment  houses, 
as  offering  them  an  economy  of  servants  ;  and  yet  we  read 
of   one  paterfamilias  who  discovered    that    the   steward 


112  AM.ENITIES  OF  HOME. 

stood,  like  Bishop  Hatto  in  the  old  Ehine  River,  and 
took  toll  hoth  ways,  opening  all  the  bundles  and  taking  a 
spoonful  of  sugar  or  a  handful  of  flour,  then  deftly  tying 
them  up  again.  On  being  found  out,  he  confessed  the 
crime,  saying  that  he  thought  a  teaspoonful  of  brown  sugar 
would  never  be  missed.  His  lodger  oifered  to  pay  him 
extra  if  he  would  let  the  packages  alone,  but  he  could  not 
promise,  as  the  excitement  of  the  game  amused  him,  and 
doubtless  he  kept  a  boy  to  retie  the  packages. 

All  these  facts  work  against  a  thoroughly  understood 
and  possible  economy.  All  that  the  good  father  can  do  is 
to  aim  at  making  his  children  feel  that  home  is  the  hap- 
piest place  in  the  world,  as  he  and  their  mother  should  aim 
at  making  it  the  best. 


XIX. 

THE   GOOD  WIFE. 

*'  Wife"  is  said  to  be  the  most  agi'eeable  and  delightful 
name  in  nature.  A  woman  indeed  ventures  much  when 
she  assumes  it,  for  it  is  to  her  the  final  throw  for  happiness 
or  unhappiness.  Be  she  ever  so  good,  so  gifted,  so  true,  so 
noble,  she  may  marry  a  man  who  will  disgrace  her  and 
make  her  unhappy ;  she  has  no  security  whatever  against 
the  most  cruel  fate. 

And  home  must  be  her  battle-ground.  The  man  has 
the  world  before  him,  where  to  choose ;  therefore,  an  un- 
happy marriage  is  but  one  bitter  drop  in  his  full  cup. 
With  the  wife,  it  is  the  whole  draught.  Let  her  weigh 
well  the  dangers  of  the  future ;  even  with  prudence  she 
may  not  escape  misfortune. 

It  is  well  if  she  can  always  think  her  husband  wise, 
whether  he  is  or  not.  She  is  a  happy  woman  who  can  make 
her  husband  always  a  hero.  She  is  happiest  who  is  hum- 
blest, and  who  takes  a  pleasure  in  looking  up.  Not  that 
we  would  ignore  or  despise  the  moral  beauty  of  great  cour- 
age in  Avomen  or  a  proper  belief  in  themselves.  The  rare 
heights  which  women  have  reached  through  their  struggles 
and  by  means  of  their  self-dependence  and  courage  are  to 
be  regarded  with  awe  and  admiration. 

The  trouble  is,  that  women  have  not  quite  the  courage 
of  their  opinions.  They  have  a  certain  degree  of  courage, 
and  then  they  halt.    This  often  puts  a  woman  in  a  perilous 


114  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

attitude  of  indecision.  A  woman  may  wish  to  keep  her 
manners  at  the  true  leyel  of  social  restriction,  and  yet  she 
may  have  longings  for  a  higher  sphere. 

This  yery  ambition  to  be  better,  wiser,  more  free  to  act 
out  her  own  character,  may  in  the  attitude  of  wife  make 
her  uneasy  and  uncomfortable.  There  are  great  characters 
who  are  cheerful  in  a  lonely  adherence  to  the  right.  There 
are  others  which  must  have  the  sympathy  and  love  and 
admiration  of  those  near  them,  or  they  are  miserable. 

They  can  not  help  this  uneasiness,  this  belief  that  they 
were  born  for  other  duties  than  the  chronicling  of  small 
beer,  and  yet  they  do  not  like  to  move  out  of  the  beaten 
track,  knowing  very  well  that  the  people  who  govern  the 
world  and  who  are  respected  are  those  who  move  in  the 
conventional  track,  shocking  nobody — souls  which  find 
their  highest  aspirations  satisfied  with  the  making  of  af- 
ghans  and  the  embroidery  of  tidies. 

Women,  however,  are  obliged,  like  men,  to  live  out  their 
own  natures,  and  to  use  their  talents  as  men  are.  Talent 
and  spirit  will  not  slumber  or  sleep.  Irrespective  of  ridi- 
cule and  regardless  of  happiness,  a  great  woman  must 
manifest  her  intellectual  or  moral  supremacy.  Happy  for 
the  gifted  woman,  if  there  be  a  vital  refinement  in  her 
mind  which  keeps  her  from  making  her  gifts  but  illustra- 
tions of  her  weaknesses. 

A  good  wife,  if  it  ever  occurs  to  her  that  her  husband  is 
her  inferior,  conceals  the  fact  religiously;  many  a  witty 
wife  has  put  good  stories  into  her  husband's  lips — a  for- 
givable deceit.  Women  have  the  talent  of  ready  utterance 
to  much  greater  perfection  than  men ;  they  are  quicker- 
witted ;  they  have  more  ready  tact.  A  wife's  mind  has 
traveled  over  the  whole  journey,  and  started  home  again, 
often  before  the  husband  has  gone  ten  miles  ;  but  she  has 
(or  should  have)  the  sense  to  keep  silent  until  he  has 
caught  up  with  her. 


THE  GOOD  WIFE,  115 

No  women  are  so  detestable  as  those  who  make  '^game" 
of  their  husbands  in  public,  who  show  them  up  to  the 
world,  and  exhibit  their  defects.  If  a  husband  speaks  bad 
grammar,  his  wife  should  ignore  the  fact,  and  bid  him  dis- 
course as  if  it  were  a  nightingale.  She  honors  herself  by 
concealing  his  defects.  She  degrades  herself  if  she  lowers 
him.  There  are  disinterestedness  and  self-devotion  in  a' 
woman's  character,  sometimes,  of  which  man  seems  incapa- 
ble.    She  should  show  it  all  as  a  wife. 

However  badly  wIa'Cs  behave  in  prosperity,  the  authors 
and  philosophers  do  give  them  credit  for  behaving  well  in 
adversity.  They  show  then  that  in  the  vainest  and  most 
frivolous  heart  **  there  is  a  spark  of  heavenly  fire  which 
beams  and  blazes  in  the  dark  hours  of  adversity. " 

"  Women  are  in  their  natures  far  more  gay  and  joyous 
than  men,  whether  it  be  that  their  blood  is  more  refined, 
their  fibers  more  delicate,  and  their  animal  spirits  more 
light  and  volatile,  or  whether,  as  some  have  imagined,  there 
may  not  be  a  kind  of  sex  in  the  very  soul.  As  vivacity  is 
the  gift  of  women,  so  is  gravity  that  of  man." 

Women  are  very  fond  of  admiration.  They  love  flat- 
tery and  fine  clothes,  and  grow  frivolous,  almost  from  the 
very  necessity  of  the  case.  The  worst  faults  of  women  are 
fed  by  the  admiration  of  men,  for  the  very  youngest  girl  is 
not  long  in  seeing  that  her  prettiest  and  most  frivolous 
companion  is  assured  of  the  highest  social  success. 

As  a  wife,  she  must  sometimes  observe  that  her  husband 
is  attracted  by  the  very  faults  which  he  most  deprecates  in 
her,  and  that,  if  his  homage  can  be  won  from  her,  it  is  by 
the  exhibition  of  qualities  which  her  own  self-respect  would 
prevent  her  from  exhibiting. 

So,  from  first  to  last,  a  good  wife  has  need  of  all  her 
virtue,  all  her  strength,  and  all  her  good  sense.  She  must 
put  a  thousand  disappointments  and  little  injuries  and 
small  injustices  in  her  pocket.     She  may  be  very  much  as- 


116  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

sured  that,  if  she  keeps  up  an  imperturbable  good  temper, 
serenity,  and  composure,  that  Monsieur  will  be  won  back 
at  last,  and  admire  her  more  than  he  has  done  Madame 
Fugatif. 

The  good  wife  accepts  her  husband's  dictum  as  to  the 
scale  of  splendor  on  which  she  shall  arrange  her  house. 
She  learns  from  him  how  much  she  shall  spend  ;  she  helps 
him  to  economize  ;  she  even  sometimes  restricts  his  too 
ardent  fancy  in  the  way  of  opera-boxes  and  pictures.  A 
wife  of  frugal  mind  is  a  great  help  to  a  man,  if  she  be  not 
mean.  A  miserly  woman  is  a  contradiction  in  terms,  for 
women  should  be  '*  loving  and  giving,  ^^ 

As  a  good  wife,  a  woman  brings  up  her  children  to  re- 
spect their  father,  to  obey  him,  to  accept  his  advice  rather 
than  her  own ;  to  be  the  vice-regent  in  the  house  is  her 
chosen  position.  Never  does  she  secretly,  as  some  bad 
wives  do,  plot  against  his  known  wishes.  Eeligion,  politics, 
business,  social  position,  expenditure — she  allows  him  to 
decide  all  these  things,  if  he  wishes  to  do  so.  It  is  a  man's 
prerogative. 

She  reserves  the  right  to  think  for  herself ;  to,  in  a 
measure,  lead  her  own  life,  choose  her  own  books,  her  own 
amusements,  and  her  own  friends,  and  her  home  is  a  much 
happier  one  if  she  brings  into  it  some  element  of  variety, 
for,  as  we  have  said,  each  member  of  the  home  should  be 
an  individual. 

Society  is  in  the  hands  of  the  women  almost  exclu- 
sively in  this  country.  Most  men  like  to  see  their  wives 
shine  in  society ;  it  gratifies  their  pride.  Good  company, 
lively  conversation,  brightening  up  the  wits,  makes  a  wife 
twice  as  agreeable  a  companion.  Society,  too,  is  the  true 
sphere  of  many  women  ;  they  are  lost  out  of  it.  Without 
carrying  it  too  far,  women  are  much  better  for  a  social 
taste.  They  get  moody  else.  In  social  life  difficulties  are 
met  and  conquered,  restraints  of  temper  become  necessary. 


THE  GOOD  WIFE.  117 

and  striving  to  behave  rightly  in  these  emergencies  will 
help  to  fit  a  woman  to  behave  rightly  at  home.  She  is  use- 
ful to  others,  and  is  improving  herself.  If  she  is  always  at 
home,  she  is  apt  to  become  morbid  and  introspective. 

She  should  be  at  home  when  her  husband  wants  her. 
He  is  the  first  society  which  she  should  seek,  nor  should 
she  ever  accept  with  patience  any  indignity  to  him.  He 
may  not  be  as  great  an  ornament  to  society  as  she  is,  no 
matter  ;  he  must  go  with  her,  and  to  him  she  always  shows 
a  most  respectful  observance.  And  she  must  not  break 
her  heart  if,  after  treating  her  like  a  goddess,  he  comes 
down  and  treats  her  like  a  woman.  It  is  not  in  the  nature 
of  man  to  keep  up  on  the  highest  stilts  of  admiration  and 
love  all  the  time.  She  must  accept  his  more  commonplace 
liking. 

And  let  her  preserve  a  disposition  to  be  pleased,  not 
slighting  the  humble  blessing  of  an  every-day  good  fellow- 
ship. 

A  good  wife  remembers  her  husband's  dignity,  and  is 
more  than  ever  careful  not  to  compromise  it.  She  is  more 
careful  than  when  she  was  a  girl,  because  then  laughter, 
playfulness,  and  coquetry  were  allowable  ;  now,  for  every 
fault  of  hers,  husband  and  children  must  suffer.  She  can 
not  be  too  considerate  of  them. 

A  man  of  wit  and  sense,  who  looks  upon  his  wife  with 
pleasure,  confidence,  and  admiration,  will  have  few  com- 
ments to  make  on  the  amount  of  pleasure  she  may  take  in 
the  company  of  other  men.  A  jealous  husband  is  a  tyrant, 
whom  no  propriety  of  conduct  can  appease.  The  races  of 
the  Othellos,  the  Borgias,  and  the  Cencis  are  not  extinct. 
A  woman  can  not  supply  all  the  failings  of  the  man  who 
loves  her  and  whom  she  loves,  but  it  is  her  duty  to  try  to 
do  so. 

A  good  wife  who  is  married  to  a  great  man — the  "  peo- 
ple's idol,"  a  favorite  clergyman,  a  noted  orator,  or  an 


118  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

Adonis — has  a  hard  part  to  act.  The  world  owns  her  idol, 
and  she  has  to  accept  the  quota  which  the  world  leaves. 
She  has  to  see  him  adored  by  other  women  ;  to  know  that, 
officially,  he  must  accept  the  confidences  of  other  women, 
which  do  not  come  to  her ;  she  sees  the  world  seeking  him 
first,  and  her,  perhaps,  not  at  all.  This  is  a  very  trying 
position.  The  wives  of  noted  authors,  particularly  in 
England,  where  the  wife  is  not  always  invited  with  her 
husband,  have  had  some  rather  trying  experiences  of  this 
kind.  Would  that  they  could  all  behave  as  well  as  did 
Moore's  Bessy ! 

It  is  the  glory  of  woman  that  she  was  sent  into  the  world 
to  live  for  others  rather  than  herself,  to  live,  yes,  and  to  die 
for  them.  Let  her  never  forget  that  she  was  sent  here  to 
make  man  better,  to  temper  his  greed,  control  his  avarice, 
soften  his  temper,  refine  his  grosser  nature,  and  teach  him 
that  there  is  something  better  than  success.  These  thoughts 
will  come  to  help  her  in  the  lonely  hours  when  he  is  receiv- 
ing homage  and  she  is  not.  She  may  be  apt  to  remember, 
too,  that  she  has  been  his  inspiration,  his  guiding  star,  that 
but  for  her  he  would  not  have  been  the  poet,  the  orator,  or 
the  preacher. 

There  is  said  to  be  no  burden  on  earth  like  the  foolish 
woman  tied  to  the  competent  man,  with  the  one  exception 
of  the  false  woman.  No  good  wife  would  care  to  fill  either 
of  these  two  disagreeable  alternatives.  But  many  women, 
otherwise  good  wives,  have  allowed  wounded  vanity  to  come 
in  and  wreck  the  happiness  of  home. 

More  than  one  literary  lion  has  cursed  his  celebrity  when 
it  has  brought  to  him  the  unhappiness  of  home.  It  is  said 
to  have  been  one  of  the  reasons  of  the  separation  of  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Dickens. 

The  wife  may  find  that  her  ideal  is  made  of  clay,  and  of 
very  poor  clay  at  that.  But  she  only  makes  herself  ridicu- 
lous by  showing  up  his  faults  to  the  world.     Whatever  else 


THE  GOOD  WIFE.  119 

he  is,  he  is  her  husband,  and  there  are  but  few  faults  which 
he  can  commit  of  which  she  should  speak.  A  wife,  who 
finds  that  as  years  go  on  she  and  her  husband  are  drifting 
farther  and  farther  apart,  is  indeed  to  be  pitied. 

As  we  grow  old,  we  shall  need  each  other  more  and  more; 
the  faltering  steps  down  the  hill  should  be  taken  hand  in 
hand,  and  we  should  invoke  all  the  amenities  of  home  and 
all  its  capabilities  to  draw  us  together  again.  We  should 
purify  the  current  of  earthly  affection,  which  is  growing 
turbid  by  the  water  of  life,  remembering  that  true  passion 
comes  first,  but  true  love  last. 


XX. 

MAKING  HOME  ATTEACTIVE. 

There  are  few  women  who  do  not  try  for  this,  and  few 
women  who,  trying,  do  not  succeed.  The  poorest  woman 
can  now  with  very  little  money  make  a  pretty  room,  and 
save  it  from  the  lonely,  sordid,  or  conventional  look  of  a 
room  in  a  boarding-house.  She  can  avoid  horsehair  sofas 
and  violent  carpets,  charge  frescoes,  and  vulgar  prints  on  the 
walls.  Good  engravings,  a  little  cretonne,  some  knick- 
knacks  made  by  herself,  a  few  grasses,  a  growing  plant,  and 
an  open  fire  are  all  that  are  needed  to  make  a  room  pleasant 
and  refined. 

What  a  pity  it  is  that  in  a  country  covered  with  wood  a 
wood  fire  should  be  an  expensive  luxury,  for  there  is  nothing 
like  it  to  make  home  attractive  !  It  burns  up  many  a  quar- 
rel and  morbid  speculation,  rights  many  a  wrong,  and  pro- 
motes peace.  No  picture  is  so  utterly  cheerful  as  that  of 
the  family  gathering  round  it  as  evening  falls.  No  conver- 
sations are  so  fresh  and  witty  as  those  which  go  up  with  the 
sparks.  No  companion  is  so  lively  and  invigorating  to  the 
invalid,  the  recluse,  the  mourner,  or  the  aged  as  a  wood 
fire.  It  is  the  most  healthful  of  all  ventilators,  the  most 
picturesque  picture,  the  most  enlivening  suggestion  of  en- 
ergy and  thrift.  It  is  the  most  fragrant  bouquet,  the  most 
eloquent  of  orators.  It  is  a  story-teller  to  the  fanciful,  and 
a  juggler  to  those  who  love  the  marvelous.  What  fairy  tales 
does  it  not  tell  with  its  sparks  on  the  back  of  the  chimney  ! 


MAKING  HOME  ATTRACTIVE.  12i 

What  combinations  of  initials  it  presents  to  the  lovers,  who 
read  "  A  "  and  '*  E  "  mysteriously  combined  in  a  true-lovers' 
knot,  written  in  fire,  as  is  their  love  !  Wliat  strange  shapes 
the  logs  take  to  those  who  intrust  their  fortune-telling  to 
its  mystic  revelation  !  What  dreamy  fancies  go  up  in  the 
smoke  ! 

Nothing  is  so  healthful  as  a  wood  fire  in  a  sick-room. 
Certain  physicians  say  that  it  will  cure  some  diseases.  In 
cities,  however,  we  have  nothing  to  take  its  place  but  cannel 
coal,  wliich  makes  a  bright  and  lively  fire,  and  which  is  the 
next  best  thing  to  the  wood  fire,  and  which  should  be  used 
in  every  living-room. 

What  a  fine  old-fashioned  distinction  that  is,  by  the  way, 
the  Uving-voom  !  As  if  the  rooms  kept  for  company  were 
dead  rooms,  rooms  full  of  ghostly  furniture,  kept  for  show, 
and  of  cold  and  fearful  aspect.  In  a  true  home  every  room 
should  be  a  living-room.  We  should  live  all  over  our  houses, 
have  nothing  too  fine  to  use.  Of  course  the  nursery  should 
hold  the  young  destroyers,  until  they  know  what  not  to 
break,  if  that  knowledge  ever  comes.  But,  to  a  trooping 
set  of  happy  boys  and  girls,  the  house  should  be  open  and 
free. 

Each  person  will  find  his  sanctum,  of  course,  and  every 
one  should,  if  possible,  have  a  room  to  himself.  There 
should  be  some  place  for  those  who  must  work  to  retire  to, 
where  solitude  would  be  possible.  But  the  dining-room, 
the  library,  and  the  parlor  should  be  cheerful  and  orderly, 
and  always  lighted  up  by  some  constant  and  familiar  pres- 
ence. Somebody  should  be  there  to  welcome  the  wanderers, 
to  greet  the  stranger,  and  to  gath'er  the  children  together  as 
a  hen  gathers  her  chickens  under  her  wings.  This  person 
is  generally  the  mother,  who  is  the  core  of  home. 
-  It  is  this  hour  of  reunion,  this  happy  hour  by  the  wood 
fire,  which  pays  her  for  all  her  work,  all  her  trials.  If  she 
can  see  her  group  passing  into  a  respectable  manhood  and 
11 


122  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

womanhood,  if  she  can  see  happy,  honest,  hopeful,  indus- 
trious sons,  and  blooming,  modest  daughters,  she  compounds 
with  the  past  for  all  its  pains,  its  desperate  despair,  its  hard 
usage  of  herself.  She  does  not  mind  her  altered  face  and 
figure,  the  gray  hair,  the  age  which  has  come  too  soon.  Her 
work  is  done,  she  has  made  a  happy  home,  and  its  fruit  is 
before  her  intact. 

Even  if  she  has  failed  in  her  loftiest  ambitions,  even  if 
she  has  not  made  heroes  of  her  sons,  or  eminent  women  of 
her  daughters,  let  her  be  grateful  that  she  has  done  no  worse. 
Let  her  be  grateful  for  the  strength  which  has  not  failed 
her  at  the  death-bed  of  her  lost  ones,  that  has  not  given  out 
in  the  darkest  hour,  that  has  sustained  the  falling,  animated 
the  discouraged,  and  kept  that  sacred  flame  alight  on  the 
hearthstone  which  will  in  future  years  be  the  altar  fire  to 
all  who  remember  her.  The  true  home  is  that  where  there 
have  been  sorrow,  self-sacrifice,  struggle,  renunciation, 
courage,  heroism ;  and  happy  are  they  who  have  through 
all  discouragements  preserved  it.  - 

The  valuable  influence  of  sisters  in  a  family  of  brothers 
can  not  be  too  strongly  emphasized  in  the  subject  of  the 
amenities  of  home.  Not  only  do  they  or  should  they  give 
a  feminine  refinement  to  the  house,  but  the  very  duty  which 
they  have  the  right  to  require  of  their  brothers,  those  acts 
of  personal  attention  and  gallantry,  the  accompanying  of 
them  to  parties  and  to  theatres,  and  the  instinct  which 
makes  them  their  sisters'  most  chivalrous  defenders,  all  go 
far  toward  making  them  gentlemen.  It  is  the  sister's  fault 
if  she  is  not  a  refining  and  a  corrective  influence  in  her 
brother's  life.  In  this  day  of  mannish  young  girls  it  is  to 
be  feared  that  she  is  not  altogether  as  universally  so  as  she 
should  be  ;  but  a  sister  should  strive  for  that  position.  She 
should  strive  for  her  brothers'  affection  and  confidence,  and 
should  endeavor  to  enlighten  them  upon  the  character  of 
the  girls  whom  they  may  marry.      She  knows  them,  and 


MAKING  HOME  ATTRACTIVE.  123 

men  can  not  know  the  characters  of  women  as  another 
woman  can. 

The  refining  influence  of  young  girls  upon  young  boys 
has  led  many  thoughtful  persons  to  advise  the  establish- 
ment of  mixed  schools,  where  the  sexes  may  meet,  as  in 
the  home  circle,  for  mutual  improvetnent.  It  certainly 
improves  the  boys.  They  are  more  anxious  to  be  clean, 
to  brush  their  hair,  to  have  better  manners  at  table. 
Whether  it  is  so  good  for  the  girls  remains  to  be  proved. 
It  is  doubtful  if  the  young  people  should  be  exposed  to  the 
early  temptation  of  falling  in  love  while  the  severe  business 
of  study  is  being  required  of  them. 

To  make  home  happy  when  there  is  even  one  nagging, 
hateful,  unjust  person  in  it,  one  who  is  full  of  small  un- 
amiabilities,  one  who  will  take  the  blower  down  from  the 
fire  when  another  has  put  it  up,  who  will  angrily  shut  a 
window  when  another  has  thrown  it  open,  who  will  study 
to  put  out  lights  which  have  just  been  carefully  lighted  to 
enable  a  person  to  read,  and  so  on — the  list  is  a  long  one — 
is  a  difficult  matter.  Injustice  and  petty  tyranny  go  a 
long  way  toward  ruining  the  character  of  children,  and 
those  who  grow  up  in  a  house  where  the  father  has  always 
been  unjust  to  their  mother,  those  who  see  him  doing  these 
little  things  daily, to  make  her  uncomfortable,  have  little 
chance  of  becoming  cheerful  and  good  members  of  society. 

**  That  remembered  bitterness  has  colored  my  whole 
view  of  human  nature,"  said  a  man  'of  fifty  years  of  age,  as 
he  spoke  of  the  treatment  which  his  mother  had  received 
at  the  hands  of  his  father,  from  the  dressing  of  a  salad  up  to 
the  education  of  the  children.  But  women  can  bear  it, 
and  should  do  it  for  the  children's  sake.  The  idea  of  home 
is  worth  it  all ;  and  she  who  does  bear  it  is  one  of  God's 
saints  and  martyrs. 

So  with  an  unworthy  mother.  The  father  and  the  chil- 
dren should  combine  to  cover  up  this  most  radical  and 


124  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

thorough  disintegration  of  home.  It  is  touching  to  see 
some  young  girl  rising  like  a  delicate  flower,  which  seeks  to 
become  a  tree,  that  it  may  give  shelter  and  food  and  rest  to 
those  who  cluster  beneath  its  shade.  A  woman  in  making 
a  good  home  shelters  not  only  her  own,  but  the  houseless 
children  of  less  worthy  women.  How  many  friendless  boys 
there  are  in  the  world  who  come  gratefully  to  such  a  shel- 
ter !  How  many  a  sick  and  weary  pilgrim,  deserted  by 
those  whom  he  has  trusted,  floats  into  this  safe  harbor  ! 
Every  member  of  a  happy  household  goes  out  into  the 
world  to  find  these  waifs,  whom  he  brings  home  to  the  fam- 
ily table  and  the  family  protection.  It  is  one  of  the  best 
privileges  of  home  to  the  benevolent,  this  power  of  doing 
all  the  good  which  thus  accidentally  comes  in  one's  way. 

Many  a  young  man  living  forlornly  in  lodgings  has 
been  saved  from  fatal  illness  and  despair  by  the  kind  inter- 
position of  some  family  who  have  found  him  out  and  have 
taken  him  home,  who  have  nursed  him  in  illness,  encour- 
aging him  to  hope  and  to  recover.  Many  a  house  becomes 
a  "  home  for  the  friendless  "  in  this  way.  Certainly  a  noble 
hospitality. 

It  is  not  the  richest  house  which  is  the  most  hospitable  ; 
so  no  one  need  be  discouraged  in  the  attempt  to  be  hospit- 
able by  want  of  money.  It  is  charming  to  one's  self-love 
to  have  a  well-furnished  house,  a  French  cook,  and  a  beau- 
tiful dinner  service,  a  butler  and  fine  wines,  and  to  ask 
one's  friends  to  come  to  excellent  dinners,  to  see  hoAV  well 
we  live.  But  those  of  lesser  means  have  the  power  to 
give,  and  to  exercise  the  true  spirit  of  the  most  sincere  hos- 
pitality without  these  adjuncts. 

Home,  being  a  strong  background,  should  not  be  care- 
lessly used  to  give  a  factitious  respectability  to  those  who 
are  unworthy.  Women  of  large  hearts  sometimes  do  this 
wrong  to  the  world.  In  their  earnest  desire  to  help  the 
unfortunate,  they  take  in  a  person  of  uncertain  character, 


MAKING  HOME  ATTRACTIVE.  125 

and  launch  upon  the  world  an  adventuress  or  a  rascal. 
*'  He  or  she  has  Mrs.  So  and  So's  indorsement ;  he  has  lived 
in  her  family. "  This  has  started  many  a  specious  vagabond 
in  society.  This  looseness  of  goodness  has  done  much 
harm.  Of  course,  we  can  not  help  being  sometimes  de- 
ceived ourselves,  but  we  can  help  being  culpably  careless. 

Much  of  this  kind  of  patronage  undoubtedly  springs 
from  a  love  of  approbation,  wliich  is  a  poor  motive.  Peo- 
ple like  to  patronize  and  to  be  looked  up  to  ;  they  like  to 
hear  themselves  spoken  of  as  being  generous,  noble,  and 
hospitable.  The  flattery  of  those  whom  we  have  rescued 
from  a  doubtful  position  is  sweet,  in  vast  contrast  with  the 
utter  want  of  gratitude  which  often  comes  to  us  from  those 
who  owe  us  everything.  We  do  not  always  receive  the 
praises  due  to  us  for  the  work  we  have  really  done,  and  the 
heart  of  woman  craves  praise.  Glad  is  she  to  get  it,  even 
from  the  unworthy. 

But  here  the  hospitable  heart  should  stop  and  ask  her- 
self these  questions  :  "Is  my  motive  in  taking  in  this 
woman  purely  generous  and  sincerely  kind  ?  Do  I  know 
her  well  enough  to  make  her  a  member  of  my  family  ? 
Have  I  a  right  to  give  her  the  prestige  of  my  name  and 
family,  which  she  will  receive  if  known  as  my  protegee  9  " 

We  have  dwelt  but  little  on  the  duty  which  every  head 
of  a  family  owes  to  herself,  her  family,  and  the  outside 
world,  in  allowing  no  scandal  to  be  talked  at  her  table  or 
by  her  fireside. 

The  character  of  some  houses  in  this  respect  is  fearful. 
"Ye  who  enter  in,  leave  all  hope  behind"  ;  for  your  flesh 
will  be  pecked  from  your  very  bones.  Some  families  have 
a  keen  wit,  impinging  tempers,  sharp  speech,  and  an  om- 
nivorous appetite  for  unhandsome  traditions  of  their  neigh- 
bors. They  batten  on  human  character,  and  to  dilate 
upon  the  many  stories  which  float  around  concerning  every- 
body is  their  best  amusement.     A  "  mauvaise  langue  "  is  a 


126  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

fearful  gift.  It  makes  a  woman  powerful  but  hated.  "  She 
is  a  great  gossip,"  *'she  is  a  talker/'  is  the  worst  of  all 
reputations  in  a  neighborhood. 

It  is  difficult  for  the  mother  of  bright  and  witty  young 
people  to  keep  them  from  the  over-exercise  of  their  tongues. 
They  catch  the  grotesque  and  funny  side  of  things  intui- 
tively. They  are  not  too  particular  as  to  what  they  say  of 
their  companions  ;  and  there  is  nobody  who  can  not  be  ridi- 
culed. Therefore  they  grow  into  scandal-mongers  inno- 
cently at  first,  and  regard  the  amusement  of  making  people 
laugh  at  their  friends  as  an  element  of  being  agreeable. 
This  grows  into  bitterness,  and  the  attributing  of  ignoble 
motives  as  they  grow  older,  on  the  part  of  those  who  find 
life  disappointing,  and  whose  experience  does  not  tend  to 
soften  them.  Therefore  a  rule,  formed  early  in  life,  to  not 
speak  ill  of  anybody,  no  matter  what  the  provocation,  would 
be  most  useful  and  beneficent. 

Children  and  young  people  should  be  warned  against 
the  dangers  of  mimicry.  It  is  an  amusing  but  a  dangerous 
gift ;  and  he  who  cultivates  it  will  sooner  or  later  get  into 
difficulty. 

"Whatever  tends  to  form  manners  or  to  finish  men  has 
great  value.  Every  one  who  has  tasted  the  delights  of 
friendship  will  respect  every  social  guard  which  our  manners 
can  establish  tending  to  secure  us  from  the  intrusion  of 
frivolous  and  distasteful  people.  The  jealousy  of  every 
class  to  guard  itself  is  a  testimony  to  the  reality  they  have 
found  in  life.  "When  a  man  once  knows  that  he  has  done 
justice  to  himself,  let  him  dismiss  all  terrors  of  aristocracy 
as  superstitious,  so  far  as  he  is  concerned." 

Every  mother  should  put  a  "social  guard"  around  her 
home.  She  can  not  be  too  particular  as  to  the  acquaint- 
ances whom  her  daughters  may  select  as  their  intimate 
friends.     And  she  should  cultivate  politeness. 

"  Politeness  is  the  ritual  of  society,  as  prayers  arc  of  the 


MAKING  HOME  ATTRACTIVE,  127 

Church,  a  school  of  manners,  and  a  gentle  blessing  to  the 
age  in  which  it  grew."  Indeed,  some  good  people  classify 
politeness  as  one  of  the  seven  cardinal  virtues.  It  certainly 
keeps  us  from  doing  many  ungracious  acts.  The  good 
manners  of  those  who  have  no  training  must  be  in  native 
goodness  of  heart,  which  is  the  secret  of  all  true  politeness  ; 
but  very  few  people  can  always  trust  to  that  instinct.  If 
they  are  trained  to  an  habitual  politeness,  the  result  is  most 
favorable.  It  inculcates  self-restraint,  and,  although  there 
may  be  the  vices  of  a  Chesterfield  under  the  polish,  the 
polite  person  saves  the  feelings  of  his  intimates,  and  keeps 
them  from  losing  their  temper  at  the  brutality  of  bad  man- 
ners. It  was  sensibly  urged  by  an  ouvrier  in  the  French 
Revolution,  that  he  preferred  ^' the  tyranny  of  the  aristo- 
crat to  the  tyranny  of  the  mob  ;  for,"  said  he,  ^'1  like  bet- 
ter the  tramp  of  a  velvet  slipper  on  my  foot  than  the  kick 
of  a  wooden  shoe." 

No  creature  is  all  saint  and  no  creature  all  sinner.  A 
mother,  a  teacher,  a  preacher,  must  remember  this,  and  do 
the  best  that  can  be  done  to  make,  out  of  the  people  around 
one,  amiable  members  of  society. 

We  live  in  a  time  of  great  thoughts,  in  which  much  is 
said  and  done  for  the  instruction  and  elevation  of  mankind. 
It  is  the  philanthropic  age  ;  the  whole  sentiment  of  reform- 
ing the  masses  belongs  to  our  day.  When  we  reflect  upon 
how  much  has  been  done  by  men  and  women  like  ourselves, 
we  can  not  despair,  but  still  hope  that  we  may  do  some- 
thing toward  it  ourselves. 

But  still  it  may  not  be  within  our  power  to  do  more 
than  to  make  one  happy  and  useful  home.  Let  us  remem- 
ber, if  we  do  that,  we  have  helped  to  swell  the  class  of  the 
ivell-bred,  whom  one  day  we  hope  may  predominate  over 
tlie  ill-bred. 

*'  Good  manners  are  the  shadows  of  virtues,  if  not  the 
virtues  themselves."     *' Company  manners,"  so  called,  are 


128  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

therefore  better  than  no  manners  at  all.  They  are  not  as 
good  as  home  manners,  real  manners  ;  but  they  may  work 
inwardly.  We  sometimes  gain  the  real  virtue  which  we 
have  only  affected. 

Idleness  has  no  place  in  the  model  home.  Be  indefatig- 
able in  labor,  and  teach  your  children  to  work.  The  ear- 
nest worker  finds  opportunity  and  help  everywhere.  It  is 
not  accident  that  makes  the  fortune.  It  is  assiduous  pur- 
pose and  work  ;  and  we  all  know  how  difficulty  and  poverty 
have  inspired  and  made  great  men.  To  the  idle  and  lux- 
urious, opportunity  offers  nothing.  The  book  is  necessary 
to  the  eye  ;  there  must  be  something  to  take  hold  of. 
There  is  something  in  industry  which  is  marvelous.  It 
accomplishes  the  impossible.  It  may  not  always  make 
agreeable  people  at  first ;  but  it  usually  ends  that  way. 
The  man  of  little  worth  and  no  industry,  he  who  depends 
upon  others,  is  apt  to  be  despondent,  unhappy,  and  queru- 
lous. 

The  only  class  possessing  abundant  leisure,  who  have  a 
right  to  be  idle,  are  the  women  who  are  supported  by  in- 
dulgent fathers  and  husbands,  or  who  are  rich  in  their  own 
right ;  and  it  is  to  this  class  that  we  must  look  for  the 
maintenance  of  the  elegancies  of  life.  They  do  much  to 
preserve  for  us  a  refined  tone  of  society,  if  they  do  nothing 
else.  But  we  must  observe  that  such^  women  are  seldom 
idle.  The  richest  woman  in  New  York  is  the  busiest  woman. 
She  is  never  happy  unless  she  is  at  work.  She  is  doing 
somethmg  for  every  charity — helping  along  young  artists, 
raising  the  poor  gifted  daughter  of  poverty  to  a  higher  op- 
portunity, lending  her  kind  hand  everywhere. 

Great  wealth  also  brings  great  responsibilities,  and 
wealthy  single  women  do  not  often  take  advantage  of  their 
wealth  to  be  idle.  It  is  the  very  woman  or  man  who  ought 
to  work  who  is  apt  to  be  incorrigibly  lazy. 

Women  should  be  educated  to  feel  that  the  single  life 


MAKING  HOME  ATTRACTIVE.  129 

has  its  duties,  pleasures,  and  rich  and  ample  fulfillment  as 
well  as  the  married.  "  I  have  seen  my  sisters  so  unhappy 
in  their  wedded  lives  that  I  shall  never  marry,"  said  one 
most  attractive  woman.  **  I  believe  nothing  is  so  useful  or 
so  happy  in  the  present  crowded  state  of  the  world  as  a  sin- 
gle life,"  said  another. 

Women  in  the  single  life  have  an  enviable  opportunity 
to  live  out  their  own  individuality,  and  they  find  their 
place  in  anybody's  home  if  they  are  good  and  agi'eeable. 
But,  so  long  as  they  are  fussy,  sentimental,  troubled  about 
old  love  affairs,  seeking,  after  the  day  for  such  things  has 
passed,  to  be  considered  attractive,  affected,  and  coquettish, 
then  the  old  maid  deserves  the  reproach  which  the  vulgar 
have  cast  upon  her.  *' It  requires  a  very  superior  woman 
to  be  an  old  maid,"  said  the  most  delightful  old  maid  who 
ever  lived.  Miss  Catharine  Sedgwick. 

And  now  for  one  long,  last,  lingering  look  over  all  the 
field  which  we  have  swept  with  our  comprehensive  broom. 

Home,  wherever  and  whatever  it  may  be,  is  sacred.  It 
is  a  place  which  none  of  us,  the  worst  of  us,  wish  degraded. 
Unhappy  it  may  be,  sordid  it  may  be,  poor  it  may  be,  but 
we  do  not  wish  others  to  speak  ill  of  it.  Very  few  of  us 
wish  it  broken  up,  although  it  may  be  our  sad  business  to 
leave  it. 

It  is  an  inclosure  for  which  we  are  willing  to  make  vast 
sacrifices.  It  is  the  one  education  which  has  influenced  us 
powerfully  for  good  or  evil.  What  our  fathers  taught  u-^, 
what  our  mothers  sang  to  us,  we  shall  never  forget. 

The  impression  we  have  made  upon  our  children  will 
never  pass  away.  The  home  we  have  made — consciously  or 
unconsciously— is  the  factor  in  their  lives  of  the  greatest 
importance. 

W^e  may  have  sown  the  seeds  of  a  positive  moral  good- 
ness, to  sec  the  flowers  come  up,  but  choked  by  weeds  ;  we 


130  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

may  have  studied  household  education,  and  have  learned 
the  supposed  seed-time  and  harvest  of  all  the  virtues,  and 
have  sown  broadcast  the  grain  of  integrity,  self-denial, 
energy,  and  industry,  yet  we  have  reared  only  idlers,  drunk- 
ards, and  selfish  voluptuaries  as  the  result  of  our  home- 
training.  The  seed-time  was  ours ;  the  harvest  is  the 
Lord's.  We  are  not  told  why  we  sometimes  fail  in  our  best 
efforts,  but  we  know  that  we  do  fail. 

We  can,  therefore,  promise  no  parent  success.  There  are 
some  soils  in  which  plants  of  virtue  will  not  grow.  Nor  is 
character  dependent  either  upon  instruction  or  training. 
The  good  son  and  the  bad  son  grow  up  by  the  same  fireside. 
It  is  the  use  which  each  will  make  of  his  opportunities 
which  will  determine  the  question.  And  even  the  best 
people  must  go  through  deep  trials  before  character  is  per- 
fected. To  live  unselfishly  to  good  aims,  to  rise  above  our 
daily  and  hourly  temptations,  to  do  our  duty  whether  re- 
warded or  not — these  are  our  stepping-stones. 

But,  whether  destined  to  be  successful  or  unsuccessful, 
all  people  should  try  to  make  a  home  whose  influence  shall 
be  good.  Whether  humble  or  important,  our  duty  remains 
the  same — to  make  a  good  home  according  to  our  lights. 

We  live  in  an  age  which  has  thrown  away  tradition,  yet 
it  will  not  hurt  us  to  read  of  the  past,  with  its  trainings 
and  teachings,  its  formal  precepts,  its  stiff  manners,  its 
respect  for  elders,  its  old-school  customs.  Let  us  aim 
to  take  for  e^r  model  all  that  was  good  in  that  sort  of 
home. 

Then  let  us  read  of  the  homes  which  have  formed  the 
great  and  good  and  useful  people  of  our  Pantheon.  We 
may  see,  as  in  the  case  of  Mary  Eussell  Mitford,  how  a 
wretched  and  worthless  father  developed  the  most  generous 
and  useful  of  daughters.  We  may  learn  in  almost  all  bi- 
ographies some  great  lesson  of  virtue  born  of  trouble.  We 
shall  have  to  accept   many  a  story  of  worthless  children 


MAKING  HOME  ATTRACTIVE.  131 

who  have  not  been  made  good  by  anything  ;  many  worth- 
less parents  who  have  made  their  children  unhappy ;  but 
we  shall  occasionally  be  refreshed  by  a  well-spring  of  such 
delightful  freshness  that  we  shall  have  strength  given  us 
wherewith  to  struggle  on. 

And  character,  when  fine,  is  such  a  very  remunerative 
thing  to  the  mind  which  needs  help  !  We  almost  welcome 
any  suffering  if  it  would  make  us  so  strong,  noble,  true  as 
some  people  have  been.  We  sometimes  look  back  through 
our  tears,  and  see  what  a  large  place  a  certain  character  we 
have  known  has  filled  in  the  lives  of  all  who  knew  him.  A 
hard-working  country  doctor  may  have  been,  as  we  look  up 
his  record  after  death,  a  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  an  Admirable 
Crichton,  a  Carlo  Borromeo.  We  remember  his  mirth,  his 
cheerfulness,  his  courtesy,  his  wit,  his  industry,  faithful- 
ness, and  unselfishness.  We  remember  how  he  came  into 
the  sick-room  at  early  morning,  bringing  flowers  with  the 
dew  on  them  for  his  suffering  patient,  and  we  follow  him 
through  the  years  of  his  beneficent  but  unrecorded  life, 
saying,  ^'  This  was  character.'''' 

So  of  many  a  woman  unknown  to  fame,  we  remember 
how  bravely  she  met  calamity  and  shame,  brought  to  her 
by  the  man  who  had  sworn  to  love  and  to  protect.  We  re- 
member how  cheerfully  she  worked  for  him  and  for  her 
children,  never  losing  her  faith  in  human  nature,  how  she 
w\is  capable  of  seeing  others  succeed  without  envy,  how 
pure  her  heart,  how 'equable  her  temper.  We  remember 
how  she  made  home  happy,  and  how  pretty  and  agreeable 
she  was,  although  her  mornings  were  given  to  music  lessons 
and  her  afternoons  to  drudgery.  No  one  would  have  sus- 
pected, as  she  gathered  her  lambs  about  her  evening  wood 
fire,  that  she  had  been  keeping  the  wolf  from  the  door. 
This  was  cTiaracter, 

And  we  remember  the  man  who  all  through  his  life 
lived  under  an  unjust  suspicion  to  shield  a  brother  or  a  son. 


132  AMENITIES  OF  HOME. 

We  think  of  the  old  man  to  whom  came  domestic  trials  of 
the  hardest,  yet  who  never  lost  his  faith. 

We  think  of  the  brilliant  woman  of  society,  who  stuffs 
her  wounds  with  brocade,  and  never  lets  the  world  see  that 
she  bleeds  inwardly.  She  has  swallowed  her  troubles.  She 
can  work  for  that  worthless,  that  drunken  son.  No  one 
shall  know  that  she  does  it.  It  is  necessary  for  the  other 
members  of  her  family  that  she  keep  up  that  home  in  its 
supposed  splendor.  It  is  only  another  sleepless  year  to  her  ! 
What  does  it  matter  ?    This  is  character. 

So  long  as  men  and  women  remember  that  home  is  the 
anchor  of  the  State,  so  long  will  they  be  doing  tlieir  duty 
to  themselves,  to  their  country,  and  to  God. 

We  have  not  been  able  to  lay  down  any  definite  and 
unalterable  rules.  The  hours  of  rising,  of  retiring,  of 
taking  meals,  of  dressing,  receiving  company,  and  of  allow- 
ing either  gayety  or  sobriety  to  rule  the  house,  this  must 
be  left  to  the  sense,  taste,  and  discretion  of  every  house- 
holder. 

Almost  all  people  of  sense  agree  as  to  the  advantages 
of  early  rising  and  punctuality  and  economy  and  general 
good  manners.  It  may  seem  very  commonplace  to  even 
allude  to  them.  It  is  to  that  higher  instinct  which  lies 
behind  good  reputations  to  which  we  would  appeal.  It  is 
to  the  sacred  sense  of  the  reality  of  home.  It  is  to  the  feel- 
ing that  Wordsworth  expresses  in  his  well-known  lines  re- 
specting those 

"  — who  never  roam, 
.  True  to  the  sacred  points  of  heaven  and  home." 

Still  less  have  we  been  able  to  tell  parents,  except  very 
generally,  what  books  their  children  should  read.  We  are 
very  great  believers  in  fairy  tales,  and  think  that  the  nur- 
sery circle  should  be  entertained  by  the  mother  in  reading 
aloud  those  delightfully  fantastic  productions  of  Grimm 
and  others  who  have  explored  the  world  under  the  fern- 


MAKING  HOME  ATTRACTIVE.  133 

leaves.  There  is  no  danger  that  these  stories  will  make 
liars  of  children,  as  some  conscientious  people  have  feared. 
A  child  perceives  at  once  the  difference  between  fact  and 
fancy. 

And  the  fairy  stories  are  as  true  as  ^^  Sandford  and  Mer- 
ton"  or  the  "Rollo  Books."  Let  children  read  both.  Let 
the  delicate  instruction  which  filters  through  "  Jack  and 
the  Bean-Stalk,"  "Cinderella,"  and  through  the  im- 
mortal pages  of  the  "Arabian  Nights,"  reach  a  youthful 
mind  early.  These  books  give  an  elegance  and  a  fullness 
to  the  intellect  of  a  child  which  no  practical  book  can 
reach.  A  child  is  nearer  heaven  than  we  are  ;  he  still  sees 
the  unseen. 

"  And  trailing  clouds  of  glory,  does  lie  come 
From  God,  who  is  his  home." 

We  should  remember  that  his  clear  and  unpolluted  mind 
still  revels  in  dimly  remembered  wonders,  of  which  we  have 
lost  sight,  and  the  universal  craving  of  a  child's  mind  for 
the  wonderful  is  not  to  be  despised. 

As  for  the  growing  man  and  woman,  we  can  only  say  : 
give  them  good  books  at  first,  and  they  will  never  wish  for 
any  other.  Form  a  taste,  and  then  turn  them  into  a  well- 
selected  library.  If  a  little  girl  comes  to  her  mother  and 
asks,  ' '  What  shall  I  read  ? "  she  should  always  be  helped 
to  a  good  book.  But,  after  her  tastes  are  pronounced,  she 
will  read  what  she  likes  or  will  not  read  at  all. 

And  we  would  earnestly  urge  upon  American  mothers 
to  go  into  society  with  their  daughters,  to  make  the  great- 
est effort  to  be  with  them,  to  know  well  their  intimates,  to 
keep  young  for  their  daughters'  sake.  It  is  very  often 
that,  with  small  means  and  with  young  children,  a  mother 
finds  herself  unable  to  do  this  thing.  Indeed,  it  is  some- 
times the  case  that  a  mother  economizes  on  her  own  dress 

in  order  that  her  daughter  may  be  better  dressed,  and  stays 
12 


134  AMEFITIES  OF  HOME. 

at  home  herself  to  send  her  daughter.  This  is  a  great  mis- 
take. The  mother's  presence  as  chaperon  to  her  daughter 
would  have  saved  us  much  national  scandal.  In  families 
of  good  ancestry,  where  good  manners  have  been  trans- 
mitted, we  find  always  the  mother  a  prominent  feature  in 
society.  In  families  of  no  antecedents,  those  who  must 
make  a  family,  certainly  this  rule  should  be  even  more 
vigorously  followed.  We  would  have  no  reproach  of  "fast 
girls"  if  dignified  mothers  watched  over  their  daughters' 
amusements. 

If  parents  wish  their  children  to  be  loving,  appreciative, 
and  grateful,  they  should  teach  them  to  reverence  and  to 
obey.  If  they  wish  them  to  be  graceful,  accomplished,  re- 
fined, they  must  surround  them  with  these  advantages  at 
home.  They  must  teach  them  not  only  those  principles  of 
good-breeding  which  spring  from  the  heart,  but  they  must 
tell  them  of  the  immense  force  which  lies  in  social  good- 
breeding  and  in  pleasant  manners. 

And  if  we  could  compress  into  one  golden  sentence  the 
nearest  approach  to  a  formula  for  home  happiness,  it  would 
be  this  :  Be  as  polite  to  one  another  as  if  all  were  strangers. 
Do  not  let  the  intimacy  of  home  break  down  a  single  bar- 
rier of  self-control.  Let  every  member  of  the  family  studi- 
ously respect  the  rights — moral,  intellectual,  and  physical 
— of  every  other  member.  Let  each  one  refrain  from  at- 
tacking'the  convictions  of  the  other.  We  should  not  so 
treat  a  stranger.     Why  our  own  ? 

"  Still  in  thy  right  hand  carry  gentle  peace, 
To  silence  envious  tongues." 


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ALL  AROUND  THE   HOUSE; 

OR, 

HOW    TO    MAKE    HOMES    HAPPY. 


BY 

Mrs.    HENRY   WARD   BEECHER, 

Author  of  "Motherly  Talks,"  etc. 


One  volume,    12mo.     Cloth.  -  _  _  Price,  $l.SO. 


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SOCIAL  ETIQUETTE  OF  NEW  YORK. 

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partly  rewritten  by  Richard  V.  Tuson,  Professor  of  Chemistry 
and  Toxicology  in  the  Royal  Veterinary  College.  Complete  in 
two  volumes,  8vo,  1,796  pages.    With  Illustrations.    Price,  $9.00. 

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very  complete  work  can,  then,  be  highly  recommended  as  "fulfilling  to  the  letter 
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cial purposes,  which  are  ke^t  constantly  in  mind.  If  it  is  more  comprehensive 
than  its  title  sucrsests,  that  is  onlybecause  it  is  impossible  to  define  the  limits 
of  its  purpose  with  exactitude,  or  to  describe  its  contents  upon  a  title-page. 
Illustrations  of  the  text  are  freely  used,  and  the  mechanical  execution  ol  tne 
work  is  excellent.'"— iN'cw  York  Evening  Post. 

The  Chemistry  of  Common  Life. 

By  the  late  Professor  James  F.  W.  Johnston.     A  new  edition,  revised 

and  enlarged,  and  brought  down  to  the  Present  Time,  by  Arthdr 

Herbert  Church,  M.  A.,  Oxon.,  author  of  "  Food :  its  Sources, 

Constituents,  and  Uses."     Illustrated  with  Maps  and  numerous 

Engravings  on  Wood,     In  one  vol.,  12mo,  592  pages.      Cloth. 

Price,  $2.00. 

Summary  of  Contents.— The  Air  we  Breathe;  the  Water  we  Drink;  the 

Soil  we  Cultivate ;  the  Plant  we  Rear;  the  Bread  we  Eat ;  the  Beef  we  Co(;k  ; 

the  Beverages  we  Infuse;  the  Sweets  we  Extract ;  the  Liquors  we  Ferment;  the 

Narcotics  we  Indulge  in  ;  the  Poisons  we  Select ;  the  Odors  we  Enjoy ;  the 

Smells  we  Dislike  ;  the  Colors  we  Admire  ;  What  we  Breathe  and  Breathe  for; 

What,  How,  and  Why  we  Digest ;  the  Body  we  Cherish  ;  the  Circulation  of 

Matter. 

In  the  number  and  variety  of  striking  illustrations,  in  the  simplicity  of  its 
etyle,  and  in  the  closeness  and  cogency  of  its  arguments,  Professor  Johnston's 
"  Chemistry  of  Common  Life  "  has  as  yet  found  no  equal  among  the  many  books 
of  a  similar  character  which  its  success  originated,  and  it  steadily  maintains  its 
preeminence  in  the  popular  scientific  literature  of  the  day.  In-  preparing  this 
edition  for  the  press,  the  editor  had  the  opportunity  of  consulting  Professor 
Johnston's  private  and  corrected  "opy  of  "  The  Chemistry  of  Common  Life," 
who  had,  before  his  death,  cleaned  very  many  fresh  details,  so  that  he  was  able 
not  only  to  incorporate  with  his  revision  some  really  valuable  matter,  but  to 
lejm  the  kind  of  addition  which  the  author  contemplated. 


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HEALTH    PRIMERS: 

A  Series  of  Hand-toDlcs  on  Personal  and  Private  Hygiene. 


EDITED   BY 


J.  LANGDON  DOWN,  M.  D.,  F.  R.  C.  P.;  HENRY  POWER,  M.  B.,  F.  R.  C.  S. ; 
J.  MORTIMER-GRAN VILLE,  M.D.;    JOHN  TWEEDY,  F.R.C.8. 


It  is  notorious  that  most  of  the  cheap  and  popular  books  on  health 
are  mere  crude  compilations  of  incompetent  persons,  and  are  often  mis- 
leading and  injurious.  Impressed  by  these  considerations,  several  emi- 
nent medical  and  scientific  men  of  London  have  combined  to  prepare  a 
series  of  Health  Primers  of  a  character  that  shall  be  entitled  to  the 
fullest  confidence.  Each  primer  will  be  written  by  a  gentleman  specially 
competent  to  treat  his  subject. 

These  little  books  are  produced  by  English  authors,  but,  since  the 
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great  degree  everywhere  the  same,  they  will  prove  of  the  utmost  benefit 
wherever  their  language  is  spoken. 


Exercise  and  Training.    By  C.  H.  Ralfe, 

M.  D. 
Alcohol :  Its  Use  and  Abuse.    By  W.  S. 

Geeenfield,  M.D. 
Baths  and  Bathing. 
The  Skin  and  its  Troubles. 


NOW  READY: 

The  House  and  its  Surroundings. 

Premature  Death :  Its  Promotion  and 
Prevention. 

Personal  Appearances  in  Health  and  Dis- 
ease.   By  S.  CouPLAND,  M.  D. 

The  Heart  and  its  Function. 


TO    BE   FOLLOWED    BY: 


The  Nerves. 

The  Ear  and  Hearing. 

The  Head. 

Clothing  and  Dress. 

Water. 

Fatigue  and  Pain. 

The  Throat  and  Voice. 


Temperature  in  Health  and  Disease. 
Health  of  Travelers. 
Health  in  Schools. 
The  Eye  and  Vision. 
Breath  Organs. 
Foods  and  Feeding. 
And  otJier  volumes. 


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Health  Resorts  in  America  and  Europe. 


The  Watering-Places   and    Mineral    Springs  of 
Germany,  Austria,  and  Switzerland. 

With  Notes  on  Climatic  Kesorts  and  Consumption,  Sanitariums,  Peat, 
Mud,  and  Sand  Baths,  Whey  and  Grape  Cures,  etc.  By  Edward 
GuTMANN,  M.  D.  With  Maps  and  Illustrations.  1  volume,  12mo. 
Cloth.     Price,  $2.50. 

"  Dr.  Gutmann  has  compiled  an  excellent  medical  suide,  which  gives  full  in- 
formation on  the  manners  and  customf  of  living;  at  all  the  principal  watering- 
places  in  Europe.  The  chemical  ccmpositions,  with  the  therapeutical  applica- 
tions of  the  miner.il  waters,  are  very  thoroughly  presented  in  separate  parts  of 
the  volume."— iVez^  York,  Times. 

The  Mineral  Springs  of  the  United  States  and 
Canada, 

With  Analysis  and  Notes  on  the  Prominent  Spas  of  Europe,  and  a  List 
of  Sea-side  Resorts.  An  enlarged  and  revised  edition.  By 
George  E.  Walton,  M.  D.,  Lectui-er  on  Materia  Medica  in  the 
Miami  Medical  College,  Cincinnati.  Second  edition,  revised  and 
enlarged.     1  vol.,  12mo.     414  pages.    With  Maps.     Price,  $2.00. 

"...  Precise  and  comprehensive,  presenting  not  only  reliable  analysis  of 
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their  use  as  intelligently  and  beneficially  as  they  can  other  valuable  alterative 
agotits. "—/S'awiterian. 

A  Search  for  Winter  Sunbeams, 

In  the  Riviera,  Corsica,  Algiers,  and  Spain.  With  Illustrations.  By 
Hon.  S.  S.  Cox.  New  and  cheaper  edition,  12mo.  Cloth,  extra, 
$1.75. 

Winter  and  Spring  on  the  Shores  of  the  Medi- 
terranean ; 

Or,  The  Riviera,  Mentone,  Italy,  Corsica,  Sicily,  Algeria,  Spain,  and  Biar- 
ritz as  Winter  Climates.  By  J.  H.  Bennet,  author  of  "  On  the 
Treatment  of  Pulmonary  Consumption  by  Hygiene,  Climate,  and 
Medicine."  With  numerous  Illustrations.  New  revised  edition. 
12mo,  cloth,  $3.50. 

Appletons'  Hand-book  of  American  Winter 
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